


Whispering Roots

by stardustpaths



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2014, F/F, Forest Spirit Castiel, Forests, Hunter Dean, M/M, Nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustpaths/pseuds/stardustpaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can’t say he’s thrilled when a hunt takes him back to his childhood town. It feels like Oak Mill and the nearby woods are haunted by more than just the mysterious monster that's been snatching people away. But after a forest spirit saves his life, it seems that maybe he'll find something good there after all, not just a bunch of unwanted memories and lost friendships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my amazing beta [Alice](http://flightagain.tumblr.com/) for your constant encouragement and the amount of work you put into helping me with this fic. My friends, Jagoda and Ula, for your suggestions and making me try harder to do my best. And finally, my artist [Lana](http://stormchesters.tumblr.com/) for your art and your enthusiasm.
> 
>    
> [art post](http://stormchesters.tumblr.com/post/103133621662/whispering-roots-by-stardustpaths-art-by)
> 
> [DCBB community on livejournal](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/)

The evening was warm and clear, just as expected in late spring. Blooming trees in a nearby orchard spread their sweet, flowery scent across the banks of the river; water burbled quietly around the stones, in harmony with chirping crickets and croaking frogs. The last rays of sunlight fell on the darkening forest, bathing trees in golden hues.

Two young, light haired boys jumped from stone to stone, across the water, and delved into the woods on the other side, laughing to each other.

“I’m telling you! That was the biggest tree I’ve ever seen! It’s amazing! It had to be like a thousand years old or something!” One of the boys gestured vigorously as he spoke.

“Are you sure you can find your way there when it’s dark?” asked the second boy. It sounded more like a challenge than a doubt.

“Yeah.” The first one grinned cockily, switching on the flashlight he carried. “It’s not that far. It’s actually weird we’ve never found that place before.”

They wandered down one of the dirt paths, filling the air with jokes and light banter. That night they were explorers, adventurers on their next expedition, discovering mysteries of the unknown, leaving behind the safety of their homes for the uncharted wilderness of the local forest. They had prepared for this escapade for a long time, making sure they’d be able to sneak past their parents and meet at the outskirts of the town unnoticed, so that no one could turn them back. Now, safe from the eyes of the adults, they finally felt their journey had begun.

The route wasn’t as simple as they’d thought. An hour had passed and they were still walking, the mysterious tree nowhere to be seen. The path twisted, from time to time melding with others or fading away. The night was moonless and after dusk darkness swallowed them completely, leaving them with only the faint glow of the flashlight. The trees seemed to grow closer and closer together, the bushes around resembling monsters with long claws, waiting for one wrong move to grab them and never let go.

The boys fell silent simultaneously. Suddenly their loud voices felt like a violation of the stillness around them. It was too quiet. No animal sounds, no wind moving the leaves, nothing. The only things they could still hear were their own breaths and steps as they moved forward.

It was hard not to run when their hearts pounded rapidly, as if they were trying to break away. But the run would do them no good when treacherous roots stuck from the ground and deceitful, thorny vines spread across their path. So they moved slowly, until they reached a clearing.

The boy with the flashlight furrowed his brow, looking around. He had no idea where they were.

“Maybe I could climb a tree, look around,” his friend suggested, almost succeeding in hiding the trembling of his voice.

The first boy rolled his eyes, trying not to look scared. “Yeah, because you’ll see a lot from a tree in the middle of the forest. Besides, it’s too dark.”

It didn’t stop his friend though. “We have a flashlight, don’t we? And _that_ tree is way higher than the rest. I could at least see which way the town is. I’m sure the lights will be visible from there.” The boy pointed at one of the trees on the other side of the clearing. It looked incredibly ancient with its gnarled trunk and crooked branches reaching greedily in their direction.

The owner of the flashlight gasped, startled. “This is it. This is the tree I was talking about. But this place looks nothing like the one I remember! How is this even possible?” His friend shrugged in response. They approached the tree slowly, its branches looming above them ominously. “You know what. I changed my mind. I don’t like this tree. This doesn’t feel _right._ ”

The second boy started climbing. “Look, maybe there are more trees like this in the forest. We have nothing to lose. We’re probably going to have to spend the night here anyway _and_ our parents are going to kill us tomorrow,” he puffed, pulling himself up.

“This is stupid. It’s not going to help and you can fall.” The boy on the ground sighed, directing the light on his friend. He already knew that arguing was pointless.

Wind swayed the branches, breaking the silence of the forest, and for a few seconds the boy thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He instinctively moved the flashlight that way, but the space between the trees was empty. He sighed with relief, not sure what he’d expected.

Then the sudden loud noise of cracking wood broke the silence again, followed by a scream and a dull thud as something heavy hit the ground.

The flashlight fell and rolled away, casting light on a small pool of blood sinking between the roots. Its owner stood in shock, looking numbly at the unmoving body of his friend.

 

 

_Seventeen years later_

Dean woke up with a start, breathing heavily. His heart pounded too fast; the sheets were drenched in sweat. He was in his room. Safe. It was just another nightmare. He sat up, trying to level out his breathing.

The curtains moved gently with the wind, making him jump. He cursed and shivered as the cold air from an open window crawled up his sweaty back. There was no chance he would fall asleep again.

For years the nightmares had come two or three times every few months, at most. But something had changed lately - they’d become more frequent, and the nights when he could get some decent sleep decreased to an alarmingly small number. Dean hoped it would stop at some point, go back to how it was before, though it seemed unlikely. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep going with so little sleep. Definitely not forever.

He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand across his face, letting out a heavy sigh. Maybe years of hunting had finally got to him, like his brother always said they would. Sam was strongly against the whole thing since Dean had told him about it. Now Dean was willing to admit that _maybe_ Sam was right, at least to some extent, and hunting wasn’t as good for him as he claimed.

Not sure what to do with himself for the rest of the night, he reached for his laptop. There should be a Star Trek DVD in the drive, left over from when he’d watched it with Charlie. Dean smiled, thinking about her. Maybe he should just go somewhere with Jo and Charlie and relax. They both had an unique ability to lighten him up.

An unfinished article greeted him from the laptop screen. He knew he had to finish it sooner or later, but his _normal_ job would have to wait until he calmed down. Nightmares always left him in no mood to write. Right now he wanted to spend a few hours on a five year long mission and explore strange new worlds, not think about freelance journalism.

 

When Dean entered the kitchen in the morning, Jo was already there, reading a book, an empty coffee mug next to her. Strands of light hair escaped the messy bun on her head, and she was still wearing the Princess Leia shirt that she usually slept in.

To this day Dean wasn’t entirely sure exactly when she’d moved in. It happened so gradually - at first her things started to appear here and there, until suddenly they were all over the place, and then one day she just didn’t leave. Well, that’s how it seemed from his point of view at least. Charlie would probably have a much more detailed story.

“You look awful.” Jo peeked at Dean from behind the book.

“Thanks, Jo. You’re so sweet, I finally know what Charlie sees in you,” he retorted, padding barefoot to the fridge.

“I also look amazing with pointed ears.” Jo closed her book. “You still can’t sleep?” She sounded concerned.

Dean grunted in response, not wanting to make a big deal of his sleep issues. If Jo and Charlie knew how bad it really was, they’d probably want him to see a doctor or something. And he’d already had his fair share of doctors when he was younger; not really an experience he wanted to repeat.

He hid his head behind the door to the fridge, pretending to look through the contents so Jo couldn’t see him anymore. She sighed. “Your brother called.”

That made Dean look at her again. “What? Why did he call you and not me?”

“Actually, he called Charlie. I think he was hoping we wouldn’t tell you. But at the same time he didn’t want to say why, so. He found us a hunt.”

Dean made a confused face. “ _He_ found us a hunt? You sure you’re talking about Sam? Or do I have another brother and nobody told me?”

Jo shrugged. “I got the impression he wasn’t happy about it either. You can talk to him about it if you want.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dean finally decided what he wanted for breakfast, and took out eggs, closing the fridge door. “So what’s this hunt?”

“Sam says people in some small town are going missing, and that a few folks claim they get a strange vibe around the local woods. Also, a couple of times this weird fog came from the river in the night, covering the whole town. Usually the next day another person was gone. He thinks we should check it out.”

Small town, a river, a forest and people going missing? Dean furrowed his brow with a sinking feeling. It could be nothing; there were thousands of towns like this, and people could go missing in any of them. But it was Sam who called, so it probably _wasn’t_ a coincidence. “What’s the town called?”

“Oak Mill, I think. Why?” Jo got up, stretching lazily, and put her mug in the dishwasher.

Suddenly Dean didn’t think he could stomach anything to eat. Of all the places in the world, Sam _had_ to find them a hunt in the town Dean had been trying not to think about since he was fourteen. “We, uh. We lived there when we were kids. Some shit went down with me and my friend and we moved away.” He tried to sound neutral. “Anyway, it was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore,” he lied.

Jo didn’t seem particularly convinced, but she let it slide and Dean was grateful for that. He guessed anyone who knew him well enough was aware that there was no point in trying to get him to talk if he didn’t want to.

As soon as Jo left, Dean dialed Sam’s number, eyeing his half-prepared scrambled eggs with slight disgust.

“They told you, didn’t they?” Dean could practically hear Sam making one of those sour faces of his as soon as he picked up.

“Of course they did. What the hell Sam? How did you even know about this?”

“You know, I had friends there too. I still talk to some of them from time to time. And believe me, I don’t like this situation at all. I don’t like what you do, what all of you do, but what choice do I have?” Sam took a deep breath. “Something is happening there, I had to tell _someone._ And I don’t know anyone beside you three who could deal with that.” He sounded somewhere between mildly irritated and worried. “Though I hoped Charlie and Jo could do this alone.”

Dean snorted. “Right. Well, I’m definitely going with them.”

There was a pause on the other side. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to go there, considering everything.”

Sam was probably right, but Dean certainly wasn’t going to say that out loud. “Look, it’s been years, I think I can deal with some bad memories now.”

“If you say so.” Another pause. “Be careful Dean. And don’t get yourself killed.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Oh, you are actually _so_ lucky Mom doesn’t know about this.”

“Bye, Sam. Say hi to Sarah from me.” Dean ended the call before Sam could add anything else.

 

Two days later Dean was parking his car in front of a small inn in Oak Mill. The old building with its wooden porch and white windows was almost exactly like in his memories, except someone had repainted it recently, giving it a more presentable look.

The inn was slightly off the road, nested between a bunch of old elm trees. With a small flower garden and an old swing hanging from one of the lower tree branches, it looked almost like a picture from a children’s book.

Dean let out a long sigh, resting his head against the wheel. As soon as they reached Oak Mill, the awful feeling from his nightmares came back even stronger. He felt like something was creeping up his back and he couldn’t shake it off, no matter how hard he tried. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Again. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. Maybe it would have been better if he’d stayed at home and left the case to Jo and Charlie.

He heard knocking on the window. Charlie waved at him and smiled, her short red hair falling into her eyes as she gestured questioningly, wondering if he was going to get out of the car. He nodded and tried to smile back, but it probably came out more like he was in pain.

“Are you all right?” Charlie asked, when he opened the door.

He shrugged. “You really don’t have to worry about me constantly, you know?”

“Hey, someone has to care about your well-being, you always forget about it.” She said jokingly, but Dean knew that she meant it.

“Contrary to popular belief, I _can_ take care of myself, thank you very much. If I didn’t think I could do this, I wouldn’t be here,” he grumbled in response. Charlie just rolled her eyes.

“Come on then, Jo’s already booking rooms for us.”

They took out their bags and headed to the inn, Dean trying to mask his uneasiness by starting one of their usual arguments: which superhero would do best during the zombie apocalypse. He stopped mid-sentence when they entered.

Jo stood in the reception, chatting with a really big, bearded guy. There was something familiar about him, and no, it wasn’t because Dean watched a documentary about bears the previous week. It wasn’t totally unexpected, he was surely going to see a lot of familiar faces in the following days, but _this_ was something more.

Jo gestured towards Dean; the man looked his way and stared at him for a moment. Dean should _definitely_ know who he was.

“Dean Winchester. I never thought I’d see you here again. Not after you’ve not spoken a word to any of us for all these years.” The man was clearly trying to sound indifferent.

Dean felt the cogs in his brain turning, trying to connect the person before him with his memories. “Benny?” he asked, still somewhat unsure. There weren’t that many people in Oak Mill who would expect him to stay in contact after his family moved out, but Benny Lafitte was one of them. Dean’s stomach clenched nervously. Everything would be so much easier if he didn’t have to face the people he was close to years ago. It was just his luck that he had to bump into Benny as soon as he set his foot down there.

Still, Benny had been his friend. It wasn’t a thing that would go away just like that, just because he turned his back on it. He had to say _something._ “Uh. Sorry about that. Things were rough for a while, and later… it felt like too much time had passed.” He hoped he didn’t sound like a complete dick.

Benny shrugged. “Look, brother, it was years ago, there’s no need to dwell on that. Me, Lisa and Robin lost _two_ of our friends that year, we dealt as much as we could and lived on. But I’m curious why you’re here now.”

Before Dean could answer, Charlie chipped in, leaving her bag on the floor. “Oh, it was our idea.” She waved her hand noncommittally. “I mean, me and Jo, we wanted to go on a roadtrip; Dean agreed to come with us. Then we ended up near Oak Mill and he decided he’d go back to his roots. And this seems like a great place to spend a few days, so why not?”

“Yeah.” Dean hoped nobody noticed how weak his voice sounded. He’d agreed to this cover story when they’d talked about coming there, but now he partially wished he’d decided to pretend to be someone else. “A part of me always regretted leaving everyone behind, never checking how they’re doing.” It was only half a lie. “So, I see you run an inn now?”

Benny nodded, giving Dean an odd look. It was hard to say if he believed what they’d said. “Me and my wife, Andrea, bought it few years back, when old Miss Hawkins passed away.”

“That’s. That’s great.” Dean tried to sound cheerful. “Um. Are Robin and Lisa still around?” He hoped he wouldn’t regret this too much. He’d probably meet them one way or another if they were there.

“Robin left town. She’s a photographer now. She travels a lot, visits Oak Mill from time to time. Lisa teaches at the elementary school and still lives here. But if you’re planning on visiting her, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Suddenly Benny looked uncomfortable. “Her son’s been missing for almost a week and she’s not doing well. This is not a good time for a reunion.”

Dean swallowed. It looked like Lisa’s son was one of the victims of their mysterious monster. “Sorry to hear that. I hope someone finds him soon.”

“Everyone does, brother.” Benny sighed. “He’s a great kid.”

Jo cleared her throat, breaking the sudden silence. “Benny, it was very nice meeting you, but we drove for most of the day and I think I speak for all of us when I say we need some rest.”

Benny looked like it took him a second to understand what she was talking about. “Of course. Here are your keys. Rooms nineteen and fifteen. Up the stairs and on the left.”

Jo took the keys and smiled brightly. “By the way, I hope that later you’ll share some embarrassing stories about Dean with us.”

“Please, no,” Dean groaned helplessly. This was going to be even worse than he’d imagined.

 

“So,” Charlie started, jumping on Dean’s bed some time later, when they’d all freshened up. “What exactly was this guy talking about?”

Jo sat by the door, almost like she was expecting Dean to bail instead of telling them anything, and was ready to stop him if that happened.

Dean took a deep breath, closing his eyes. There was no way he could avoid this. “There were five of us. We were friends, always hung out together. And after - after I left - I didn’t want to think about this place. I didn’t want any reminders of what happened. I decided it was better not to talk to any of them. Later I realized it was the most shitty thing I could do, but like I said to Benny, it was too late. That’s all.”

“You aren’t going to tell us _what_ it was that happened, are you?” Charlie asked.

“No. And don’t ask Benny either. I promise it’s not going to affect this case in any way, so you don’t have to worry about it.” He _hoped_ it wasn’t going to affect the case.

“Dean, we worry about _you_ , not about the case. It clearly affects _you_.” Jo didn’t give up.

Dean gave her a look which he hoped made it clear she should stop talking. He appreciated their concern, but that didn’t change anything. Some things were better left alone. “Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this. Just leave it. I told you all you need to know. I’m going to be all right. Can we _please_ talk about the case now?”

Jo looked up and shook her head. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know that? But fine.”

“Thank you.” Dean hoped the subject was closed, at least for the time being.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jo asked.

Charlie took out her phone. “Basically, talk to people first, as always. Sam gave me the address of his friend, Jessica Moore, so we should start by talking to her. It looks like she lives not far from here.”

“I can see if Benny knows anything helpful,” Dean offered, and then looked at his hands. “I could also try talking to Lisa.” To tell the truth, he had no idea how to talk to Lisa without sounding like a total douchebag, sticking his nose in her business for no reason. Unless he told her the truth. Which would make him sound like he was out of his mind. Which wasn’t that great either.

“For now talk to Benny. Then we can visit the library in town and go through old papers, see if anything unusual stands out,” Jo suggested.

“And we should also check out the forest,” Charlie added.

“Yeah. Yeah, that seems like a good plan,” Dean agreed, ignoring the growing feeling of something stuck in his throat. The forest. Great. But he knew what he was getting into when he decided to come to Oak Mill, so he was going to have to deal. “Anyway, you up for watching some crappy old movies tonight?” Best way to deal with anything was to think about something else.

 

Early morning found Dean making his way to the woods through the damp grass. Alone. Jo and Charlie were going to be furious. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing. He tried not to think too much about the last time he’d been there, but the memories forced their way into his mind, leaving him with images he wished had stayed forgotten.

It wasn’t too late to turn away. He looked back at his car, parked on the side of a narrow country road. No. He needed to see that place again and finally get over it. Taking a deep breath, he faced the forest again. A bunch of old trees weren’t going to win. He wasn’t a kid anymore and there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. Well, except the mysterious thing snatching away people in town, but _that_ wasn’t bothering him that much at the moment.

The first steps Dean took under the cover of the trees were wary, but soon he felt more confident. He walked further, taking in his surroundings. Little specks of light shining through the leaves danced on his shirt with every blow of the wind. Everything was green and calm. The birds chirped somewhere above and the air smelled of earth.

The forest was like every other forest he’d ever been to. And he was okay with forests in general - he wouldn’t have become a hunter if he wasn’t. But this was different. This was his childhood nightmare. Discovering that in reality it looked so _normal_ was strange.

Deciding to go deeper into the woods, he picked up an uneven pace, walking as fast as the bushes around allowed. Somewhere in the back of his mind a thought appeared that he _should_ be there, that this was the right thing to do. It didn’t make much sense, so he tried to brush it off. He still didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going, but since he was already there he might as well look around.

After ten minutes or so it had gotten visibly darker. At first Dean dismissed it, thinking the sun had hidden behind the clouds, but the sky was cloudless when he entered the forest. He wasn’t there long enough for that to change. Then he noticed the birds had stopped singing. The unnerving silence felt all too familiar. A sudden, sweet, nauseating stench of decay hit his nostrils. Swallowing hard, he moved further.

As he walked, the ground beneath his feet started making quiet squelching sounds. He stopped, looking down. There was something on his shoes - dark, almost black, slimy spots that surely weren’t mud. He smeared some between his fingers. It left reddish traces. Blood? It didn’t look exactly like blood. Besides, how much blood would someone need to soak the whole area? He rested his hand against a tree, glancing around. How far had it spread? The trunk felt damp and clammy under his palm. It was covered in the same substance, oozing out of the cracks in the bark.

Dean wiped his hand in disgust, cursing the moment when he’d thought the forest was normal. He really, _really_ did not want to be there anymore. Whatever he was going to find, it certainly wasn’t anything good. He should go back. He wasn’t prepared for a fight.

He tried to turn away, discovering his feet were stuck. There was a lot more slime on his legs now, moving up on its own. It also became a lot more gummy. “Shit,” he muttered, opening his pocket knife and freeing himself with quick moves.

He ran, his heart pounding fast as small branches slapped him in the face. Remembering the route he’d taken before was annoyingly difficult. With shallow breaths he looked back, almost expecting to see some kind of slime monster behind him.

His foot caught a root sticking up from the muddy ground.

Before Dean knew what had happened, he was on all fours, gasping, almost wholly covered in the vicious substance. It crawled slowly to his face, bubbling, blocking his mouth and nose. He instinctively closed his eyes. He couldn’t breathe, there wasn’t enough oxygen in his lungs. He felt his arms buckling underneath him.

Suddenly something else, thick and hard, wrapped around his legs. Roots? It tugged him sharply, making him fall on his face with a splash. Struggling, he managed to turn on his back. The slime was still everywhere. He couldn’t see anything. He heard rustling and creaking wood and soon more roots wrapped around him. He was being dragged somewhere. He was being dragged by _a tree._

His mind felt sluggish, thinking becoming harder and harder. The whole situation vaguely reminded him of that time in Lord of The Rings when the Hobbits almost got killed by a willow. _Fuck,_ he thought, before blacking out, _I can’t die eaten by a tree!_

 

“Dean! Wake up,” a low voice called urgently. Dean didn’t feel like listening to it. It was too loud and his whole body _hurt._

“Mmmph,” he answered, hoping that would explain his thoughts to whoever was bothering him.

“Please, I need you to open your eyes.” The voice didn’t give up. “I need to know if you’re all right.”

The memory of being dragged hit Dean without a warning. Was he still alive? The roots were definitely gone, and at the moment nothing was trying to suffocate him. He felt weirdly secure.

Something moved on his chest. Reluctantly, he raised his head and opened one eye. A small, gray squirrel was looking at him with its head tilted slightly to the side, sniffing curiously.

“Good,” the voice said. “Can you get up?”

Dean groaned. “Please, don’t be a talking squirrel. That’s too much for one day.”

The voice said something Dean couldn’t understand and the animal jumped off. “I’m not a talking squirrel.”

Dean lifted himself up onto his elbows. He was still in the forest, though it was sunny and nice again, nothing like the creepy nightmare he’d just escaped. There were tears in his clothes and he was all covered with red, dried up smudges of leftover slime. Gross.

Before him crouched a dark haired man in worn jeans and a gray shirt. His feet were bare. A small smile danced in the corners of his mouth. Dean really appreciated that he wasn’t a squirrel, the animal in question now sitting on the man’s shoulder, but he started to wonder whether he should be alarmed or not. There was something about the guy that made it clear he wasn’t human.

Though considering Dean would probably be dead by now if not for him, he could at least give the man the benefit of the doubt. There _was_ a chance he wasn’t secretly a bloodthirsty monster. Charlie dated a fairy a few years back and that turned out all right. He figured that from time to time someone not being human didn’t have to be bad news. Even in this case, when he was alone in a forest where a lot of people had disappeared recently. Well okay, so maybe the assumption was _a little bit_ reckless.

“So who _are_ you?” he asked, not wanting the silence to drag on for too long.

The man straightened his shoulders. “I am the spirit of this forest. I protect it and its inhabitants.”

Dean looked at him in disbelief. “Dude, you’re _a forest spirit_? Also, sorry, but I think the protecting thing isn’t going so well right now.”

“And yet, you’re alive because of me,” the man stated a little stiffly, and then narrowed his eyes. “Is there something wrong with me being a spirit?”

“No! Not at all… though I guess I would expect a more Radagasty-type someone as a spirit,” Dean explained. The man only narrowed his eyes more.

Dean cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter.” He sat up. “Do you have a name, or am I supposed to call you _the mighty spirit_ or something?” He furrowed his brow, his thoughts wandering back to the moment when he’d woken up. “Hey, how did you know mine, by the way?”

The man seemed to think about the answer for a while. “You can call me Castiel,” he stated, pointedly ignoring the second part of the question.

Dean tried very hard not to roll his eyes. Then an idea popped in his mind. Probably a bad one. “Well, _Cas_ , I’m here because something bad made itself at home in _your_ forest, if you didn’t notice yet. Me and my friends want to get rid of it, but we still have no idea what it is. So maybe you could help us.” Charlie and Jo were definitely going to kill him. Or thank him. Depends.

Castiel studied him carefully. Dean thought he saw some kind of sadness crossing his face, but it disappeared so fast it was hard to tell for sure.

“Okay,” the spirit agreed.

“Okay? Just like that?” That was actually a little surprising.

Castiel gave him a quick smile. “Just like that. You wanted my help, and I agreed.” He stood up. “You might be disappointed though. If I knew what it was, I would already do something about it.” He paused. “Something’s keeping me away, I can’t get anywhere near those blighted parts of the forest. I do whatever I can, but to tell the truth, you are not the only one in need of help.”

Dean got up too, ignoring the sudden dizziness in his head. “If you can’t get close, how did you get me out of there?”

“You weren’t that far yet, Dean. You were still close enough for the trees to help you. I wouldn’t be able to get there personally.” Castiel explained, turning around. “Come, I’ll show you the way out.”

Dean followed, hoping he wasn’t being led to some kind of spirit’s den, where he’d be sacrificed to unknown gods. For now everything seemed in favor of Castiel not being dangerous, but who knew. He looked at the spirit, noticing that the path between the trees seemed to open right before him. Handy, when you thought about it. He cleared his throat. “So, you can command the trees.”

“I’d say I can _ask them_ for some small favors, and _they_ decide what they want to do, but yes, I can talk to them.” There was a lot of fondness in those words.

“That’s pretty cool,” Dean admitted.

“Thank you.” Castiel took a turn, leading them through a small clearing.

They walked in silence for some time, Dean lost in thoughts. There was something bizarre about the whole situation. He watched Castiel move in front of him, graceful, natural, in perfect harmony with everything around. It was ridiculous, but even with his doubts about Castiel’s intentions, Dean felt safe, despite everything that happened, both years ago and that day. He wondered briefly if this could be some kind of a spell, but he didn’t think so somehow.

“Well, uh, if you want to help, is there anything you can tell me about the forest?” he asked after a while, kicking himself mentally for forgetting about the case. “Or is it, I don’t know, that kind of help where you hold my hand and tell me everything’s going to be all right?”

Castiel didn’t answer right away, making Dean think he wasn’t going to at all. When he finally spoke, his voice was tense. “It started a few months ago. A bunch of animals disappeared, then trees in some areas stopped responding. I went to check on them, but I couldn’t get close. No matter how hard I tried, something wasn’t allowing me to go in there. The only thing I could do was to make sure no more animals wandered in those places. They all know better now, but it doesn’t help. Something is taking them away and even with trees helping where they can, I can’t save them all. And it’s getting worse. It’s spreading - the trees, the ground, they’re changing.” He paused for a long time. “But I can do that too.”

“Do what?”

“Hold your hand and tell you everything is going to be all right.”

Dean almost stumbled. “Yeah, okay,” he said, failing to find any good response to that. “If I show you a map, will you be able to tell where those places are?”

“I think so,” Castiel replied and they fell silent again.

Sometimes, as they walked, when the light fell on Castiel from another angle, Dean thought he saw something else, something bigger than the man before him, something with antlers and animal faces. Was he imagining things or was it there for real?

“Your feet don’t hurt from all those roots and other shit you step on?” he asked, to occupy his mind with something else.

“No.” Castiel stopped. “We’re here.” And he was right, Dean could already make out the road and the shape of his car between the trees. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved, but there was also a pang of disappointment that this was it. It caught him by surprise. He shouldn’t be disappointed by getting out of there.

“I’ll talk to my friends and get back here tomorrow with a map,” he declared and looked around, not knowing what else to say. “How do I find you?”

Castiel smiled at him again. “Calling my name should work.” And just like that he vanished, leaving Dean alone.

“And Dean? I’m glad you came here,” a disembodied voice added, making Dean jump.

“Yeah. The pleasure was all mine,” Dean replied, staring at empty space before him.


	2. Chapter 2

When Dean came out of the woods the sun was already getting low. It seemed like he’d been blacked out for a pretty long time. He distractedly checked his phone, walking towards the car. One message from Charlie and two missed calls, both from Jo. Maybe it would be good to let them know that he was still alive and that nothing had eaten him. Okay, something possibly had tried, but he was still there, so that didn’t count.

“Dean! What the hell were you thinking, disappearing without a word in a town where people go missing?” Jo demanded as soon as she picked up. “If you were busy, you could at least text me!”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dean said. “You called when I was unconscious.” That probably wasn’t the best way to start explaining the situation.

There was a long silence on the other side.

“You’re joking, right?” Jo finally asked slowly.

“I wish I was.” Dean massaged his brow. “Before you say anything, I’m all right. And I have some news, but it can wait until I get back.”

“Uh, fine.” Jo paused. “Let’s meet in an hour. Charlie is still at Moore’s place right now.” She sighed. “I tried to get any additional info from the police, but no dice. I guess it was worth a try, though they probably don’t know anything useful anyway.” She sounded disappointed nonetheless.

“Well, at least now we know for sure that we have nothing to look for there,” Dean reassured.

Jo sighed again. “Yeah. All right, Winchester. Don’t get lost on your way back.”

He smiled. “I’ll try.”

 

In the end it took a little more than an hour before the three of them gathered together. Dean _really_ needed a long shower first, and there was nothing that could drag him out of there until he felt like all remnants of the slime were gone. Jo of course took that opportunity to tease him about his ‘beauty time’ the second he entered the room. He didn’t dignify her with an answer, stealing a slice of the pizza she and Charlie ordered when they were waiting for him, and sitting with them on the bed, where he could take more later.

“Damn, I hoped that the pineapple would scare you off,” Charlie sighed.

“It’s still pizza,” he replied with his mouth full. “Do you want to hear what happened or not?”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but only if you’re not going to try to absorb the whole thing by yourself. In that case you can leave and get your own food or at least wait until we finish.”

“Fine, I’ll try to control myself.” Dean swallowed. “I went to the forest in the morning, don’t really know why, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” he started, and then told them about finding the weird mud, getting stuck in it, losing consciousness, meeting Castiel and asking him for help. He ended the story with the stuff Cas had told him about the forest.

“So,” Charlie spoke as soon as Dean finished. “For some reason you went to the forest, almost got killed, and now we have a spirit possibly helping us with the hunt?” she summed up, unconsciously drawing shapes on Jo’s back as she talked. Dean didn’t think Jo noticed, lost in thought.

He brushed a hand through his still wet hair. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“You think we can trust that guy?” Jo didn’t look convinced. “I get that he saved your life, but what if there’s something more to this? Everything looks too convenient.”

“I think we can try working with him.” Dean shrugged. “We don’t have to _trust_ him to do that. I mean, let’s give him a chance, but I’m not going to make friendship bracelets with him next time we see each other. I’ll be careful, at least until I’m sure what his intentions are.”

“And you think something is changing the forest?” Charlie asked.

“Something _is_ changing the forest. Unless you think that almost getting eaten by some slimy crap is a standard these days.” Dean gave her a pointed look.

“Okaay,” Charlie continued, her voice a little too innocent. “And is someone from the town cutting down the trees to produce iron and weapons? Have you seen a princess riding a wolf? A giant boar maybe?”

Jo groaned and smacked her with a pillow. “We’re _not_ reliving Princess Mononoke.”

“Both my arms are fine, thank you very much,” Dean added.

“Hey, at least that would be an _epic_ hunt!” Charlie raised her arms in defense. “For now all we have is a full list of missing people I got from Moore, so better let’s hope that Ashitaka here,” she pointed at Dean, “gets somewhere with that spirit, because that’s the most promising thing going on.”

 

As promised, Dean went back to the woods the next day, getting the map of Oak Mill and the surrounding area on the way there. At least he could make himself useful that way.

He planned to talk to Benny the evening before; somehow it just didn’t happen. He’d met Andrea though, and she seemed fine. They had a nice chat about pie fillings. If only reconnecting with old friends was as easy for him as meeting new people. But there was just too much of _everything_ there. He felt guilty for not keeping in touch with anyone from Oak Mill, and for coming back only because of the hunt and then lying about it. But at the same time he didn’t want to be reminded about his childhood even more than he already was. Funny how in comparison spending more time in the forest seemed like a good option. Actually, he even felt kind of driven to it. Probably because it was an escape from people potentially talking about his past.

He stood close to the treeline for a minute or so before he realized that he was somehow supposed to make Castiel show up there. What did Cas say about that? To call him?

“Cas?” Dean asked, raising his voice. It felt dumb and nothing happened. “I have a map. Can we talk?” It still felt dumb. He looked around doubtfully. Maybe he should knock on a tree?

“Hello, Dean,” said a voice behind him, making him jump.

“Jesus. _Don’t do that._ ” Dean turned back, and of course Castiel was there, looking just the same as the day before. He was watching Dean closely, his head tilted. “Do what?” he asked.

Dean gestured towards him. “Don’t appear behind me out of nowhere, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” There should be some kind of book guide for forest spirits about human interaction.

“Ah, _that._ I can try.” Cas seemed almost too fond of himself.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Dean asked suspiciously.

“No.” Castiel’s face was like a stone, but Dean could swear that he saw a happy glint in his eyes.

“Hey, saving my life won’t count if you scare me to death the next day!” he complained, making a face. Thank goodness Charlie and Jo weren’t there to see that. They would tease him for months.

Castiel ignored Dean’s pouting. “You said you have the map?”

“Yeah.” Dean handed him the map and patted his pockets, looking for his pen. It had to be there somewhere. “If you show me where those fucked up places are, then, if nothing else, I could make sure not to walk in there again. At least until we know what to do.”

Castiel walked further into the forest and sat on the ground, his back against a tree, studying the map. Dean followed, finally finding the pen. He gave it to Cas, sitting beside him. The soil was slightly wet, leaving stains on his pants.

“Have you tried asking the trees if they felt anything before… you know,” he asked.

“As far as I know, they don’t feel anything. Everything seems fine, and then they’re gone.” Cas replied, outlining a small shape on the map.

“They seem… afraid,” he added after a while, putting down the pen and looking at Dean. “Whatever is happening, they have no control over it and no knowledge of what it is.”

Dean swallowed, resting the back of his head against the tree trunk. “We’re going to stop it, I promise.” He didn’t know what made him want to comfort Castiel. He meant what he said the previous day, he was trying to be careful, but at the same time he felt he actually _liked_ the guy, which was a little absurd, given that he barely knew him. And that Cas was a forest spirit who apparently liked to scare people by silently appearing behind them.

Cas didn’t reply to that, holding out the map a few minutes later. “These are all the places I know of. Keep in mind that this thing is spreading, so the map may stop being accurate very soon.” There were twenty or so spots marked in the forest. It seemed that there was no pattern to it, no symbol they created together, nothing special at all. Dean could cross that out on his mental list of ‘possible leads to check’.

He took the map from Castiel, folded it and stowed in his back pocket. “At least we have it mapped for now, that’s something.”

“Have you found out anything else?” Cas asked, staring at Dean like he hoped he could find all the answers in his face if he looked closely enough. It was somewhat unnerving.

“Not really,” Dean shrugged. “Charlie and Jo, you know, the friends I was talking about, they’re hoping that _we_ may find something here.”

Castiel looked away. “Oh. I’m not sure if I can help you with anything else.”

“I can think of something,” Dean offered. “Like, have you seen any humans here recently? Or anyone at all, for that matter?”

Cas made a thoughtful expression, playing with a small twig he picked up from the ground. “People made trips to the forest in the past, but not since _this_ started. There was no one I saw lately.” He paused. “Except you.”

“I think we can rule me out as the bad guy. I just got here.”

“Too bad, you were the only suspect,” Castiel deadpanned.

Dean laughed. “What about you?” He asked the question jokingly, but studied Cas carefully to see his reaction. It seemed very unlikely that Castiel had anything to do with the disappearances and everything else, and Dean didn’t really believe it was him, if he was being honest with himself, but stranger things had happen before.

“It can’t be me,” Cas answered with a sad smile. “I would never hurt the forest.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Dean agreed, suddenly feeling bad for even asking. “You know, you could come with me to check the river,” he added after a pause. “It runs alongside the forest for a long stretch, and someone in the town said that the fog making people disappear comes from there.”

Cas furrowed his brow. “Why would you need my help with that?”

“Well, for one, it would be nice to have some company,” Dean explained, wondering for the hundredth time what exactly he was doing. “And the second pair of eyes is always welcome. You can make sure I won’t miss anything.”

“Oh.” Castiel looked slightly taken aback. “All right, I can go with you.”

“Awesome,” Dean grinned, getting up and tapping his legs to get rid of the dirt. Castiel followed him, leaving the twig he was playing with on the ground. Dean noticed that now it had small leaf buds that definitely weren’t there before.

 

The sun was already high when they got close to the riverbanks, its bright rays reflecting off the flowing water. Gentle gusts of the wind carried the fresh scent of grass and blooming trees. Dean inhaled, tasting it on his tongue. There was something warm and calming in the view around him; the river, the forest, the meadows, all seemed so peaceful. It was hard to believe anything bad could be happening there. Or that it was the same place something bad had happened years ago.

“Okay, look for anything out of ordinary,” Dean instructed. “I’m sure there must be _something._ ”

They walked side by side, Dean stealing glimpses of Castiel. The faint shape of an antlered creature towering over him was visible again. Dean thought it looked content, with its half-closed eyes and something resembling a smile on its faces. There was a strange discord between it and the corporeal, barefoot man with ruffled hair, walking next to him.

“Hey, Cas, if you’re a forest spirit, why do you look like a human?” Dean asked, before he could stop himself.

“I look as I choose to. I decided that a human form would be easiest for you to accept.” For some reason Cas’ voice sounded odd.

“So how else can you look?” Dean continued with curiosity. Despite years of hunting there were still so many things he didn’t know. Though this was something more than a fascination with Castiel as a forest spirit.

Cas gave him a long glance before he replied. “I can appear as a tree, or an animal, or a small light. Among other things.”

“That sounds pretty cool. And useful.”

“It comes in handy,” Cas admitted. “Can I ask you something in return?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean shrugged. They were further from the forest now, following one of river’s meanders. The grass was higher there, going up to Dean’s mid-thighs. Castiel didn't seem to notice, the path opened before him the same as before.

“How did you start doing what you do?” he asked.

“What? Hunting?” Dean didn’t expect that question.

“If that’s how you call it,” Castiel nodded. “It seems to me that most people don’t believe in… spirits, for example. And yet, here you are, acting as if things like this were nothing new for you,” he explained further.

Dean gave Cas a small smile. “I’ve never meet a forest spirit before.”

“ _That_ shows too.” Cas pretended to look irritated, but Dean could see that his eyes were smiling. “And you didn’t answer.”

“Okay, fine,” Dean laughed, plucking a few grass strands and knotting them together to focus his hands on something. “I guess I was interested in stuff like this for a long time,” he started. “Since I was in my teens probably.” Since the time that he usually preferred to leave forgotten, when he’d been going from one psychiatrist to another; not able to sleep, plagued by nightmares, barely eating, and not allowing himself to get close to anyone. Back then he needed a distraction, and maybe also a hope of finding some sort of explanation of what happened. It got better with time, but his interest in the supernatural stayed. “Then I went to college and got into journalism. I always looked for weird shit, unsolvable mysteries, urban legends; you get the idea.”

Cas didn’t say anything to that, so Dean continued.

“At first it was just for fun, I wasn’t expecting to _find_ anything. Then I stumbled upon the real deal. A bunch of shapeshifters messing with people’s lives. That could’ve ended up pretty badly for me, I had no idea _at all_ what I was doing.” To tell the truth Dean still had no idea what he was doing far too often, but he wasn’t as bad at this as when he’d started. “Fortunately for me, there was another guy hunting those shifters, Henricksen. He was an FBI agent, too, which helped a lot with getting rid of the evidence incriminating me for the stuff one of them did.” To this day Dean felt chills every time he thought that his hunter career could have ended in jail before it even began for good.

“Anyway, after that I just couldn’t get back to how it was before. There was this whole new world and I knew almost nothing about it. I promised myself not to leave Henriksen alone until he answered all my questions.” Dean huffed. “He got pissed as hell and tried to brush me off, saying it wasn’t for me, but I was stubborn and he finally agreed to send me to this other guy, Bobby Singer.”

He laughed, suddenly feeling warm inside. “Bobby’s the type of person who makes you think they’re going to shoot you for trespassing when you first see them,” Bobby actually nearly shot Dean when they’d first met, but Dean was _almost_ sure it was an accident. “But really he’s like everyone’s favorite uncle. He taught me about hunting; he helps a lot of people with it. That’s how I met Charlie at his place, a few years later. We started hunting together, and after a while Jo joined us. She’s Bobby’s step-daughter, you know. We’ve dealt with ghost, vampires, fairies, ghouls and a shit-ton of other stuff. They’re not always bad, but when they are, most people don’t stand a chance. That’s why hunters like us, are needed.”

“That seems very… heroic,” Cas commented.

Dean snorted. “Trust me, we’re far from heroes. We’re pretty ordinary when you get to know us better.”

They reached a patch of flattened grass, and Dean stopped, looking around. They’d gotten a lot closer to the town while he’d been talking. He wasn’t sure how far from the forest they should look. Castiel scanned the opposite bank of the river, then shook his head. There was nothing out of the ordinary. They kept walking.

“So yeah, I know about a lot of stuff most people don’t believe in,” Dean added. “But there’s a line everywhere. I’m _not_ going to believe unicorns are real until I see one.”

“Why?” Cas asked bewildered. “Is there something wrong with unicorns?”

“Dude, they are magical, _rainbow-farting_ , horses _with horns_!”

“I don’t see how that makes them less believable,” Castiel stated, furrowing his brow.

Dean looked up, shaking his head. “Whatever. We probably should try going the other way,” he suggested. “We’re already close to the nearest houses. If I was trying to do something shady, I wouldn’t do it anywhere with that big a chance of someone noticing me.”

“It also seems to be too far from the forest,” Castiel agreed.

They started walking back, continuing to look around, in case they’d missed something before. The silence was comfortable and easy, like this was something they did frequently. Dean reminded himself that he was supposed to be careful and shouldn’t get _too_ comfortable. At least for now. Though he had to admit he was failing pretty badly.

“So, what do forest spirits do for fun?” he asked.

“I usually take root, sprout leaves, and contemplate the process of photosynthesis,” Cas replied calmly.

Dean couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Sounds thrilling.”

“I talk a lot with trees,” Cas continued. “Beeches in particular are amazing storytellers. I also spend time with animals; most of them love to play. There’s a lot to do in the forest, and every corner is _so full of life_.” His voice was full of passion now. “It _never_ gets boring.”

Looking at how animated Cas’ face became when he was talking about it, Dean could believe that. “Do you ever get like… curious about humans?”

“I know enough about them.” Castiel sounded odd once more. “And I visit the town sometimes,” he added after a pause. Dean choose not to pry any further.

Silence fell again; they broke it only from time to time to talk. Castiel told Dean more about the forest and what he did there, Dean in return shared some of his adventures with Jo and Charlie. It was nice, Dean thought. Cas was a little weird, and also a potentially dangerous being living in a forest, but it was nice.

 

Next time it was Castiel who stopped, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. The river was close to the forest there, the first trees growing maybe five meters from the water.

“Someone burned herbs here. It’s still in the air,” Cas said, looking around.

Dean inhaled, trying to catch the scent, but he couldn’t smell anything. He was going to have to take Castiel’s word for it. He scanned the ground closely. At first he didn’t notice anything special. Then he saw a few dark red drops, similar to what he’d stumbled upon in the forest the previous day.

“Hey, Cas, look at this!” he called, glancing in Castiel’s direction. Cas stood near the trees, unmoving. “Cas?” He didn’t react. Dean walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Cas, are you okay?”

This time Castiel turned his head, looking at Dean flatly. “Dean, they aren’t responding.”

“What? Who isn’t responding?” Dean asked confused.

“The trees. I can’t talk to them.” Cas swallowed. “I wanted to ask if they knew anything and they-- they feel as if they’re dead. I can’t help them. I can’t even move any closer to them.”

“Shit.” Dean brushed a hand through his hair. “Shit. I’m sorry.” Now he saw that the ground beneath the trees was already changed, the roots bathed in the dark slime. “We should probably hurry with looking around. I don’t want to stay long enough to have a repeat of yesterday.”

Cas sighed, closing his eyes. “This is not getting any easier.”

They searched the whole area as fast as they could, finding some remains of snakeroot and vervain. There wasn’t anything indicating who or what might have left them, though. On the way back Dean marked another spot on the map. That was all they could do.

 

Dean stayed with Castiel for another few hours, somehow having a hard time leaving while Cas was still upset. At first he tried distracting him by describing the complex plot of Doctor Sexy, but for some reason it didn’t work very well, so he went back to stories about his hunts. Cas seemed a lot more interested in that.

It was late afternoon when he finally made himself leave. He had to see if there were any fitting rituals or spells that fit with the herbs they’d found. Hopefully the sooner he did it, the closer they’d be to solving the case.

Back at the inn he turned his laptop on and searched a few hunter sites, and then the internet in general. Both snakeroot and vervain were pretty commonly used, and nothing he found looked like it could cause whatever was happening to the forest. There was also nothing about the fog anywhere. He let out a tired sigh. They needed to find something more than two herbs.

He send a short message to Jo and Charlie, telling them what happened. Charlie texted back saying they were both stuck at the library, going through old articles. Without much better to do, except for talking to Benny, which he still didn't feel ready for, he decided to join them.

The library was small and cramped, with at least a decade old computers and dusty bookshelves. It wasn’t hard to spot Jo and Charlie huddled over stacks of papers covering a simple wooden table - they were the only people there.

“Found anything interesting?” he asked, approaching them.

“Uh.” Charlie raised her head with a weird expression. “We haven’t found anything that we could connect to the hunt but--”

“--we’ve found something else. Sorry.” Jo finished, looking suspiciously guilty and handed him an old paper. It was an issue from about seventeen years back, bold black title saying “ _A boy disappears in the local forest. No body found._ ” staring back at Dean. His name had to be mentioned somewhere in there. How could have he forgotten that there’d be something about this in the papers?

“Uh. So I guess at least now your curiosity’s been satisfied.” He swallowed. “But I’m still not going to talk about this.”

“Dean,” Jo started gently. “Are you sure you want to be going into that forest more? Maybe me or Charlie could--”

“No,” Dean interrupted her sharply. No matter how twisted it was, the forest actually made him feel _better_. “And that’s the end of discussion. I’m going to switch shaving cream with your toothpaste if you ever mention it again.”

Jo sighed. “The pile on the left are the ones we haven’t read yet.”

Dean nodded and took the first paper from the stack. Jo and Charlie also got back to work. No one said anything more, the library drowned in silence.

 

For the next few days Dean was not only avoiding talking to Benny, but also to Charlie and Jo. He knew he was acting like a child, but it didn’t make him stop, it just made him angry with himself. That damned accident happened almost two decades ago and it still was affecting his life, almost like a fresh wound. Why couldn’t he just get over it?

At least his nightmares had stopped. Unexpected as it was, he was thankful for that. Oak Mill still felt odd and made him uneasy, but at the same time there was this weird conviction that he was in the right place. If only that was enough to make him want to talk to anyone.

He spent more time searching for spells and rituals involving the herbs they’d found, then he moved on to looking for a connection between the missing people. All without any success. In the meantime he finished his article, sent a few texts to Sam to him know that he was still alive, talked to his mom, and found a few great pie recipes he was going to try as soon as they got back. All that still left a lot of time he could potentially spend with Charlie or Jo, or talking to Benny.

He ended up hanging out with Castiel.

At first he told himself he was just going back to see if there was something important they’d missed. Then he admitted that it was nice to spend time with someone who didn’t know about his past in Oak Mill. (Funnily enough, Dean felt that maybe talking with Cas about it wouldn't be that bad. It didn’t make any sense even to him.) After that he gave up on excuses. He wasn’t going to deny he just wanted to see Cas and check how he was doing.

 

It was another warm day and Dean watched a bunch of rabbits running around Cas’ legs, while the two of them sat by the river. Green tree branches hung above the water, sun shining through the leaves. One of the rabbits hopped in Dean’s direction and started sniffing his hand.

“Huh. Shouldn’t they be afraid of me?” Dean asked.

“They know that if you try harming them, I’m going to smite you,” Cas replied like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Reassuring,” Dean huffed and started petting the rabbit. The animal moved closer into the touch. “Have you always been here, Cas?” he asked out of the blue.

“No,” Cas replied tightly, growing a few small flowers from the ground and giving them to the rabbits. It looked like he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Do all forests have forest spirits?” Dean tried again. He wasn’t sure whether he asked because he’d never see another one, or because he just wanted to know more about _Cas_ specifically.

Castiel looked absently at the water. “In the middle of this forest grows the Heart. It’s old and powerful and it makes this place _special._ It has given souls to the trees. And it’s the reason that I’m here. If there are others like the Heart somewhere, then perhaps there are more forest spirits. Other than that I don’t know.”

Dean’s phone buzzed in his pocket, making the rabbit he was petting run away. He ignored it. Cas looked at him questioningly.

“It’s nothing,” Dean waved dismissively. “It’s probably Jo or Charlie, and I doubt it has anything to do with the hunt.”

Cas frowned, looking at Dean. “Are you avoiding them?”

“No,” Dean denied, maybe a little too quickly. It didn’t sound convincing at all. He sighed. “Okay, maybe I am.”

“Why?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dean replied, shrugging.

“Okay,” Cas said, and continued watching him carefully, still waiting for an answer.

“Uh. I’m actually from Oak Mill, you know.” Dean didn’t know what made him talk. He just did. “Years ago I lost someone here; a friend. And it’s stupid how much it still haunts me. Charlie and Jo accidentally discovered what happened and now I don’t feel like being anywhere near them. I just can’t stand people looking at me and thinking about _that_. It’s bad enough that _I_ can barely stop thinking about it since I got here.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m pathetic, I was supposed to talk to this other guy, who used to be my friend too, to see if he knows anything useful for us, and I’m avoiding him too.”

“You’re not pathetic Dean, you’re human.” Cas’ voice was gentle and he gave Dean a sad look. Somehow Dean didn’t think it had anything to do with pity.

“So what?” he spat angrily. “I told them that this wasn’t going to affect my work on the case and now I’m doing everything to prove myself wrong.”

“ _So_ it’s nothing bad that you feel,” Cas stated pointedly. “I’m very sorry that you lost your friend. But you’re _so much more_ than one bad thing that happened in your life, and if you talk to people, if you remind them about that by being there and not hiding from them, they’re going to see _you_ and not that thing.” He stared at Dean with such an earnest expression that Dean had to look away.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, feeling his throat clenching. He had no idea what else to say. Conversations like this shouldn’t happen with people you knew for less than a week. Not that it would be that much better if he’d known Castiel for years. Actually, it would probably just make him run away, like had happened with Benny, and even with Charlie and Jo.

The rabbit came back and nudged his hand, demanding to be petted again. Dean smiled involuntarily.


	3. Chapter 3

Cas’ words actually helped somewhat, although it still took Dean until the next day to get himself together and find Benny. In the end, he didn’t have to look for him too long. He bumped into Andrea on the stairs and she pointed him to the kitchen. When Dean got there, Benny was in the middle of cooking something; the smell made Dean’s mouth water.

“Hey, Benny. Can I ask you something?” Dean said, aiming for sounding cheerful.

Benny glanced at him from the peppers he was chopping. “You’re not really on vacation here, are you, brother?”

“Well.” Dean didn’t know what to say to that.

Benny put the knife away. “Come on, Dean, I’m not an idiot. I don’t believe you’d decide to come here on an impulse, you were always far too stubborn for that. And those friends of yours are going around and asking about missing people, not the best way to have fun if you ask me.”

Dean frowned, wondering how Benny had learned about that. Maybe Jo and Charlie had given up on him and tried talking Benny on their own? Benny huffed. “Don’t give me that look, I usually don’t do gossip, but being friends with the sheriff makes you know all kinds of things.” He paused. “So? What are you doing here?”

Great. Dean brushed a hand across his mouth. He could probably lie, or act like he didn’t know what Benny was talking about. But maybe telling something close to the truth was a better option here. “Yeah, well, okay. We are here because of those missing people. We hope-- We hope to find them. Or at least stop the disappearances from happening again.”

Benny raised his brow, looking at Dean doubtfully. “And what can the three of you possibly do that the police can’t?”

Dean couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “A lot.” Well, they hadn’t done much yet. But still. “We’re constantly dealing with stuff the police doesn’t even _believe_ exists, and that helps in cases like this one.”

“So you’re telling me the X-Files are real or somethin’?” Benny laughed.

Dean grimaced. “No, not really. But we _really_ deal with some freaky shit. Trust me, you don’t want to know the details. And we believe this is a case for us. Think, Benny. Are those disappearances look completely normal to you?”

“Damn, you’re actually serious about this?” Benny looked like he still couldn’t decide whether to believe Dean or not. “And you’re saying you can find them?”

“We’re definitely going to try,” Dean shrugged.

A sudden hiss made both of them turn their attention to the stove. One of the pots started boiling over, spilling red sauce everywhere. “Oh, fuck.” Benny jumped to reduce the flame underneath it.

“Okay, let’s say I believe you,” he sighed, after preventing a disaster. “The town probably should use all the help it can get. So. What was your question?”

 

Dean stood before Lisa Braeden’s door, not ready to go in yet. It was a small, neat house with a white fence and a couple of azalea shrubs. Strangely, it somehow suited the image of thirteen-year-old-Lisa he had in his head, the girl who was always the first to climb the trees in their gardens, and ran around with her knees constantly scraped.

Benny didn’t know much. He didn’t think that they’d had anyone new move into town in the last few months, which only confirmed what Moore already told Charlie. He also said that none of the people staying at the inn were there long enough to have anything to do with the disappearances. Most importantly, he provided Dean with Lisa’s current address.

Lisa opened almost as soon as he rang the doorbell. Her hair was a lot longer than it had been where Dean knew her. She had bags under her eyes, and her face was pale. He could see that she was worried out of her mind about her son. Suddenly he felt completely out of place. It was one thing to talk to strangers in situations like this one, it was the other to talk to someone he once knew.

“Hey,” he greeted her, smiling weekly.

“Dean,” she replied with a tight smile, letting him inside. “Benny called me and said you would come.”

Dean followed her. “Did he also tell you why?”

Lisa nodded. “He did. He said you can find Ben. Is that true?”

Dean took a deep breath. He didn’t want to give Lisa a false hope. “Me and my friends are willing to try.” He paused. “I wish we weren’t meeting in these circumstances.”

She huffed. “Would you even come here in any other circumstances?”

He didn’t answer. She knew anyway.

Lisa took him to the kitchen and made coffee for both of them. For a moment they sat together in silence. Dean couldn’t stop himself from looking around. It was a cozy, bright kitchen; Lisa had a nice place to live. He told that to her. She thanked him, then cleared her throat. “So, what can I do for you?”

Dean took a sip of his coffee. “First, think back to before Ben disappeared. Anything unusual caught your attention? Something strange, hard to explain?”

Lisa focused on her mug, brow furrowed in thought. “You know about the fog, right? I know it can’t be normal. It happened a few times lately.” She swallowed. “It’s happened the night Ben vanished, and I _swear_ the air in the morning smelled weird. Like burned incense.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “We’ve talked to Jessica Moore and she told us about the fog. She’s actually the one who let us know about this in the first place. Well, she told Sam, and then he told us. She didn't mention the smell, though,” he said, putting his coffee down. “Anything else?” he prompted.

“I don’t know,” Lisa rubbed her shoulders. “Everything else seemed normal.” She shook her head, sighing. “I should have paid more attention.”

“It’s okay,” Dean reassured. “Just let me know if you remember something. Maybe Ben met someone new recently? Do you know if he was connected somehow to the others that have disappeared?”

“No.” Lisa shook her head again. “The police already asked all those standard questions and I don’t think I said anything helpful then.”

Dean lowered his eyes. “Sorry. I know it’s hard for you. We’re not working with the police, so we don’t have access to any information they’ve gathered. But I won’t ask any more questions.”

Lisa hid her face in her hands, laughing nervously. “Oh god, I’m so desperate. Who would’ve thought I’m going to trust a boy I knew years ago, whose work I know nothing about, to find my son.”

“If it’s any consolation for you, we’re usually pretty good at our job,” Dean said.

They both fell silent, finishing their coffees.

“Do you think about him?” Lisa asked after a while.

It caught Dean off guard. “What?”

“You know who I’m talking about.” She looked at him pointedly. “Being here must bring some memories back.”

Dean swallowed. “Yeah, okay, it does. I’m trying to ignore them.” On the way to Lisa’s he’d passed his old house; the grapevine covering the front wall still there. And just like that he’d remembered the smell of grapes, their sour taste, hiding behind the vines in the summer, laughing, and telling each other stories about pirates, and knights, and spaceships. He didn’t say any of that out loud.

 

Back at the inn, he shared what little information he’d got with Jo and Charlie. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Now they could at least assume someone was using herb-based spells both to infect the forest and to create the fog.

“Not that I don’t appreciate that you're finally out of your inner cave Dean, but what’s gotten into you today?” Jo asked him later, while he and Charlie were playing cards and she was reading, sprawled on the bed.

“Cas,” Dean answered mechanically. Both Jo and Charlie smirked and shared a knowing look. Dean rolled his eyes. “ _Not literally,_ you pervs.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jo said with innocence.

Charlie nudged him. “You know what, you should bring him here.”

Dean raised his brow. “What?”

“Oh, come on!” she said. “You’ve been disappearing into that forest almost for the whole week. Don’t you think we want to meet him too? He’s a _forest spirit_ for goodness sake!”

“I know I said it’s better to be careful with him, but maybe he could help us more,” Jo added. “You know, it’s his forest, we’re still basically stuck with this hunt, and we won’t say no to a fresh pair of eyes.”

“Fine, I can ask him,” Dean shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal.

 

Castiel agreed to visit the inn without any objection. It left Dean with a funny feeling inside. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy about Cas meeting Charlie and Jo, but for some reason it also felt a little too close to introducing a boyfriend to his whole family and hoping they would like him. Not that Cas was his boyfriend or anything.

“Just try to keep it down with uh… your spirit form. It shows sometimes, I’m not sure how people are going to react if they accidentally see it,” he warned, while they sat at their spot by the river. He tried to ignore the fact that they already had _their_ spot by the river.

Castiel looked at him, squinting. “It _doesn’t_ show,” he said slowly. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, _I_ see it,” Dean argued. Even at that moment he could see the faint shape of antlers and many eyes staring at him with the same intensity he saw on Cas’ face.

Cas studied him carefully. “I don’t think anyone else will.”

Dean snorted. “What, am I some kind of a special snowflake?”

“As a matter of fact, I think you are,” Cas retorted.

“Well, let’s hope you’re right,” Dean said, feeling his ears getting hot. “Because if you aren’t, we’re going to end up with a bunch of _really_ surprised people.”

 

Cas came to the inn the next day, looking like any regular human being. He even had some shoes on. It definitely looked less suspicious than bare feet would, but Dean somehow felt disappointed, like the shoes terribly disturbed Cas’ appearance.

“Why didn’t you say he’s cute?” Charlie commented as soon as she saw him.

“I’m not _cute,_ ” Castiel frowned, scrunching his nose, and looking around with curiosity.

Dean patted him on the back, faking sympathy. “I don’t think Charlie left that up for discussion, buddy,” he said jokingly.

They showed Cas everything they had on the case. He looked through it attentively, his brow creased, his eyes focused. “Why aren’t you working with the sheriff?” he asked. “If nothing else, it would make it easier questioning the families of the people who disappeared.”

“Yeah, we know,” Jo agreed. “The thing is, we can’t say the truth, and we don’t have a lie good enough. Some hunters pose as agents, FBI for example, but unless they’re FBI for real, it makes everything even more dangerous if someone discovers they’re lying. All three of us have lives beside hunting, and we’d prefer not to lose them. We have people who can help us if we fuck up, but we still try to keep a low profile. Especially in a town where it’s possible someone could recognize Dean no matter what we say.”

“Maybe you still could try with some version of the truth,” Cas argued. “I’m sure the sheriff cares more about finding those people than about who you are.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple, but we can think about it,” Dean shrugged.

They spent a few more hours getting nowhere with the hunt, and then Charlie gave up for the day, instead deciding to show Castiel the wonders of TV shows, specifically Gravity Falls. She said it was it was in the spirit of the hunt Cas seemed to like it. Dean liked that Cas liked it.

 

Dean lay on the ground, long grass tickling him in the face. The sky was a vibrant shade of blue, white, fluffy clouds drifting through it, moved by the wind.

He was going to kill Cas if anyone ever found out what they were doing.

“The one on the left looks like a sheep,” he said.

The grass rustled as Castiel moved next to him. “A sheep? Sheep don’t look like that, Dean.”

Dean sat up, giving Cas a challenging look. “It’s a sheep in a top hat. If that doesn’t fit your sheepness standards, it’s your problem.”

They were in the middle of a meadow, not too far from the forest. Dean gave the woods an automatic glance. He wouldn’t be too surprised if at some point the slime decided to crawl out of it and spread further in the Oak Mill direction. They’d checked how far it had moved in the last few days an hour before. It didn’t look like it was going to make a trip to the town any time soon, but who knew.

A dark shape moved just behind the line of trees. Chills ran down Dean’s back. Was it possible that this was who they were hunting? “Cas, there’s someone in the forest,” he said, nudging Castiel to get up.

They reached the forest as quickly as possible, Dean a bit out of breath, his chest heaving rapidly. The mysterious person was already nowhere to be seen. He cursed. They’d probably lost their chance.

A scared yelp echoed through the woods, making them both jump. Maybe that wasn’t their monster after all. Castiel disappeared. Dean cursed again and ran in the direction of the sound.

He bumped into Cas not too much later.

“I can’t move any further,” Cas said, his voice tense. “I’ve asked the trees for help, hopefully we’re not too late.”

Dean nodded, resting against a tree. They didn’t have to wait for long. It was weird to see the roots moving, dragging someone with them, and Dean wondered if he looked anything like that when it had happened to him. The roots unwrapped from the body. It was a teenage boy, already partially covered in slime, but still conscious.

As soon as he was let free, the teenager tried to get up and run away, not even giving Dean and Cas a second glance.

“Hey!” Dean caught his shoulder. “Easy, you’re safe now,” he said.

The boy looked at him with wide eyes, unconvinced. “W-what the hell was that?” he stammered, shaking.

“ _That_ was the reason to avoid the forest,” Dean stated grumpily. “At least until we find a way to take care of it.”

The boy was still shaking. Dean sighed. “What’s your name?” he asked a little more gently.

“Aiden,” the teenager said weakly.

“Okay, Aiden. We’re going to help you get out of here, and nothing else is going to happen to you, I promise,” Dean reassured. It seemed to work to some extent, at least enough for Aiden to agree to follow them out of the forest.

“What were you doing here?” Castiel inquired a few minutes later, while they were heading back.

“It was a dare!” Aiden explained. “My friends made me do it. Some people say there’s something wrong in the forest, but it’s not like anyone’s ever seen anything! I was supposed to check it out.”

Dean groaned. “Well, I hope that this was enough to make you stay away from here in the near future,” he said grimly. Something in his stomach turned. It felt a little too close to home for his comfort.

 

They escorted Aiden back to the town. He still seemed pretty shaken when they got there, declaring that he just wanted to go back home and forget about everything. Dean couldn’t object that.

When the boy left, Dean finally admitted that maybe talking to the sheriff wasn’t a bad idea after all, and that they should at least tell her about the slime. She’d be able to do something about people wandering into the forest.

Unfortunately for them, Jody Mills was a level-headed woman, and it seemed impossible to convince her that the forest was full of slimy substance oozing from the trees and attacking people. Dean wasn’t surprised. The story wasn’t especially believable and even saying that they were just two regular guys who went for a walk didn’t make it easier to accept.

Luckily, the sheriff still wanted to check out the woods and see what their problem was. Apparently the police were so at a loss with the disappearances that they couldn’t allow themselves to ignore anything. Even if it sounded like a plot to a bad horror movie.

Going to the forest with the sheriff was risky, but at this point Dean and Cas didn’t have much choice. The only thing they could do was to make sure Sheriff Mills didn’t get too close to the slime. It turned out to be worth the risk. Seeing in person what was happening worked, and the sheriff promised to think of something that would keep everyone away. It was probably their first success of the hunt, Dean thought.

 

Two days later Castiel came to the inn looking slightly agitated. He’d heard someone in the forest, a voice talking in an unknown language. This time it didn’t sound like just a random person. He wanted to follow, but the slime stopped him before he got close enough to see anything.

They spent a while searching the internet for something that could help them get safely through the slime, but nothing plausible came up. It was frustrating. They had a possible lead and no idea how to follow it.

Then Charlie wanted to teach Castiel how to play some dumb card game, forcing Dean to play as their opponent. They were having a half-hearted conversation about the hunt between turns, until Dean declared that he was done; it was unfair playing against both Charlie and Cas. They were just too good.

“Is it always like this?” Castiel asked.

“You mean is Dean always throwing a tantrum when he loses a game?” Jo joked.

“Hey!” Dean threw her a dirty look. “Instead of laughing at me you could’ve helped!” Jo stuck out her tongue.

“I’ve meant, is this what your life usually looks like?” Cas explained.

“Not exactly,” Charlie shrugged. “I mean, we go on hunts when we can, but we also have jobs to take care of. Like, Dean’s a journalist, I’m a web designer and we’re both freelancing, so from time to time it gets hard and earning money takes priority over everything. We’ve both done our fair share of odd jobs here and there.”

“It’s probably a little easier for me, because I’m working at Mom’s bar. I can just tell her that we’re going on a hunt and then pick up shifts whenever I can,” Jo added.

“Oh, okay,” Castiel said. “So, _is_ Dean always throwing tantrums when he loses a game?”

“That’s it, you’re no longer allowed to spend any time together,” Dean grumbled, accompanied by Jo and Charlie’s laughs.

 

The fog came again. Another person went missing and it left everyone in a bad mood. They had no new leads, and their best achievement was convincing Sheriff Mills to keep people away from the forest. They had to figure out how to search the damaged parts of the woods without the risk of getting attacked by the slime, and in Cas’ case a way to actually get anywhere near those parts. And they had to do it quickly.

“Okay, that’s it,” Jo said finally one evening, right after they’d gone through everything they had for the thousandth time. “We’ve been here for two weeks, and we’ve done one big _nothing_. This is getting embarrassing. We’re calling Bobby.”

Charlie nodded. “I’m sure he can think of some way to help us.” They both turned to Dean.

“Why are you looking at me?” he asked defensively.

“Because Jo has too much pride to call, and calling your almost-father-in-law is pretty awkward,” Charlie explained.

“ _Fine,_ ” Dean groaned, pulling out his phone. He spent the next ten minutes explaining the situation to Bobby.

“And ya idjits are calling me _now_?” Bobby almost shouted, when Dean finished. Dean had to move the phone away from his ear. “Bobby, please, can you help us somehow or not?”

“I’ll see what I can do, boy,” Bobby sighed. “And tell my daughter that her mother expects her and Charlie at dinner as soon as you finish that hunt. I swear, that girl just never calls home anymore.”

Jo actually went red when Dean repeated that.

Bobby called Dean back two hours later, saying that he might have someone who could make protection amulets for them. The amulets should repel the magic used in the forest, but making them was going to take some time. Dean thanked him. It wasn’t like they had any other options.

 

Dean made another trip to the forest to let Cas know what Bobby had told them. They ended up sitting by the river once again, Cas with his feet in the water, Dean next to him, leaning back on his elbows. It was getting dark; they’d just finished checking how far the slime had moved. Dean was intending to head back to the inn soon, but for now they both decided to sit down for a bit. Cas looked over the water with a deep frown.

“Hey, are you okay?” Dean asked.

Cas’ frown deepened. “Should I be? The forest is sick, it’s spreading fast and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dean shook his head. “You’re right. Let’s hope Bobby’s amulets are going to work.”

Cas didn’t answer. They sat in silence disturbed only by the flowing water, gusts of wind and chirping crickets. Dean searched for something to say that would make Castiel feel better, but he couldn’t find anything.

A small, yellow, flickering light appeared over the water. Seconds later it was joined by another, and then another one, and another. Suddenly there were more than a hundred of them, swirling in the air. Fireflies.

Dean glanced at Cas, who was smiling gently now. “Are you doing this?” he asked.

“Maybe.” Cas looked at him. “It helps me calm down.”

Cas’ face was half-lit by the moon, its angles sharp, and now Dean couldn’t stop looking at him. “We’re going to get through this, I promise,” he said.

Cas huffed. “I hope you’re right.” He paused. “I’m glad you’re here, Dean.”

“Well, it’s my job.” Dean grinned.

“I meant right now,” Castiel explained. “But thank you for coming to Oak Mill, too. Especially knowing how you feel about this place.”

“You know what, I actually don’t regret it,” Dean smiled. It was true.

Cas smiled back.

Dean didn’t know what made him do it, but he leaned closer to Cas and kissed him. It just felt like a good thing to do in that moment. Cas kissed back and Dean felt dizzy, felt like he was falling. It was perfect.

And perhaps a little cheesy with all those fireflies around them.

Dean broke the kiss, out of breath. Cas looked at him, smiling, his eyes warm. But then suddenly his expression changed, like he’d only just then realized what happened. Before Dean could say anything, he disappeared.

“Cas?” Dean shouted. “Wait, I’m sorry, come back, please!” he pleaded into empty space. He looked around, confused, because Cas definitely seemed to be okay with the kiss at first. Apparently Dean was missing something. He groaned. Why did he always had to do something stupid and destroy everything?

 

Dean sat on the porch, shivering in the evening chill, a beer in his hand. Although summer was close, the temperatures in the night still sometimes dropped too low for his liking. It was dark, but the lights from the inn cast a warm glow around him, scattering the shadows. He needed some time to sulk in peace, without people giving him worried looks.

He heard quiet steps approaching, and a moment later Castiel slumped beside him. Even in the dim light Dean could see that Cas’ expression was odd, his brow furrowed. It looked like he was fighting with himself to speak.

“I apologize that I disappeared without a word. I’m… I need to show you something,” he finally stated, looking in some undefined direction that certainly wasn’t anywhere near Dean.

Dean took a sip of his beer. “Cas, if I went out of the line with kissing you, then I’m sorry, it wont happen again. You can just say so, you don’t have to tread around me like I’m gonna cry if you say anything. I’m a big boy, I can deal with it.”

Castiel shook his head. “You did nothing wrong, Dean. In fact, I would be very happy if that happened again.” Something in Dean’s stomach did a happy dance. “But there’s something I haven’t told you that could change a lot. And I don’t want you to act without full knowledge, it’s possible you’d regret it later.”

Dean swallowed. He didn’t like where the conversation was going. “What, you caught slime flux and you think it’s STD?”

Cas gave him a dirty look. “You’re not funny.”

“Okay, okay.” Dean put the bottle on the step next to him. “So what didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“I think it will be easier to explain if you come with me.” Castiel wasn’t looking at him again.

“Fine.” Dean got up. “But we’re taking my car.”

 

Castiel led them far into the woods. They didn’t talk much as they walked. It was the first time Dean had been there at night since he was fourteen, and even with how different everything was now, he still felt uneasy. Thinking about the big secret Cas apparently had didn’t help at all.

Looking for a way to calm himself, Dean focused on the glimpses of the creature he could catch if he watched Cas closely. Its ethereal branch-like antlers brushed the leaves above, its gait steady and proud. Its ears moved at every sound coming from the forest. It was as mesmerizing as when Dean first saw it.

He got so lost in observing how the spirit moved that he didn’t notice when they stopped, bumping into Cas.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking around. Chills crept all over his body. Before them was the same tree he’d seen in his nightmares for more than half his life. The same gnarled trunk and twisted branches reaching towards him, the same bent roots sticking out from the ground. There was a second when he felt like the tree was calling him. His head was spinning, his heart beating faster.

“Cas, why are we here?” he asked, unconsciously taking a step back. “Because, sorry to break it to you, but this is probably the worst place you could choose to tell me anything. Well, except those parts of the forest that eat people.”

Cas’ expression was pained. “Dean, I am so sorry. I wish I knew how to do this in a different way, but… You mentioned you lost a friend. It happened here, didn’t it? What do you remember?”

Dean laughed. “Oh, we’re definitely not talking about _this_! Ask your tree, I’m sure it can tell you anything you wanna know!”

“I’m not asking about what happened. I’m asking what you _remember_.” Castiel stood there, lit by the moonlight, looking so sad that Dean would probably feel bad for him in a different situation. Even his other faces looked sad.

“Why are you doing this?” Dean didn’t want to be there. The only thing he wanted was to go back to the inn and forget about that damned place. He would already leave, if only he were sure he could find the way back on his own.

“Please, Dean, just answer.”

Dean could see the story playing before his eyes, just like it did a thousand times before. He started talking despite himself. “I was here with a friend. It was the middle of the night, we lost our way. He decided to climb that tree, he thought he would be able to see the lights in the town from there.” He stopped, taking a shaky breath. “He fell and killed himself. I don’t know what happened after that, I woke up in the morning near the river. His body wasn’t found.” He felt his eyes getting wet, but at this point he didn’t care. “Satisfied now?”

Castiel stood silent for a moment. “Your friend didn’t fall from the tree that night, Dean. You did.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean snorted bitterly. “So explain me this - how is it that I’m standing here now and he’s not? Do I look dead to you, huh?”

Cas took a few steps towards the tree. Dean fought the urge to stop him. “I didn’t bring you here to hurt you. I hoped this would make you remember what _really_ have happened. I see it didn’t work, I’m sorry for making it more painful for you.” He paused. “ _This_ is the Heart. And when you died, it spoke to your friend. It made an offer. Your life in exchange for him. He would stay here, guarding the forest on its behalf, while you would be able to go back home. He agreed in a heartbeat. Looking back, I don’t think I would change that decision.”

Dean felt his knees weaken under him, not sure if he understood what Cas was implying. “Take me back.”

“Dean--” Castiel moved closer, his voice almost pleading.

“Take me back.”

 

Dean paced back and forth by his car, not sure what to do. Too mad to drive, too mad to face Cas. Did he want to scream? Did he want to punch Cas? Did he even believe what Cas had said? Would Cas have reasons to make it up? The spirit was of course still there, standing in silence, apparently waiting for him to speak. Dean wished Castiel would just leave, at least until he calmed down. But the guy couldn’t take a hint sometimes.

After a while he gave up pacing, and stopped in front Cas, opening and closing his mouth, at a loss what to say. “Fuck, this is so weird. What am I even supposed to call you?”

Castiel sighed. “The same way you did until now. I’m still Castiel, the spirit of this forest, and that’s not going to change.”

Dean moved a hand across his mouth. “Why didn’t you just come back to Oak Mill? You could’ve say something, you could’ve-- ”

Cas looked away. “I was unable to take human form for years. When I succeeded, there wasn’t anything for me to come back to.”

Hearing that hurt more than Dean could have expected. “Shit. I destroyed your life, didn’t I?”

“Don’t you dare think like that.” Cas’ expression became intense. “It was _my_ decision and if you didn’t hear the first time - I wouldn’t change it even if I knew exactly what was going to happen. I don’t regret it. I lost a lot, that’s true. But I gained something in return.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you were ecstatic about losing everyone you knew.”

“There was a time when it hurt, but it passed.” Cas’ answer was quiet, he smiled weakly. “And I wasn’t alone, you know. Trees and animals are quite good company when you’re a forest spirit.”

“Okay, that’s it. I destroyed your life.” Dean was going to be sick.

“Dean, stop. I didn’t tell you this so you could blame yourself!”

“So _why_ did you tell me?” He was shouting now, no longer able to stop himself. “It doesn’t change anything! It doesn’t change that I lost you, that it took me _years_ to feel okay again! The only thing it does is that now I know it was _my own fault!_ I could have listened to you and nothing would have happened!”

“I am _alive_ Dean! We are _both_ alive and that’s a lot more than we should be able to say! I became someone else, but I’m alive and happy. I wish you could see that.” Castiel spoke louder too, his voice full of emotion. “And I’m _ashamed_ it took me so long to tell you. I didn’t know how. For some time I even thought it would be better this way, and later that you wouldn’t believe me anyway. And then, when you kissed me, I knew I had to do it, that it couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Well, you were right, I’m not sure what to believe! How am I supposed to know if _everything_ you’ve said isn’t a lie? Hell, maybe _you’re_ the thing we’re hunting and you’re just playing on my emotions, trying to deceive me!” Dean knew he’d gone too far. He didn’t care.

“Dean, you know that it’s not true.” Suddenly Cas sounded cold.

“No, I don’t,” Dean spat.

Castiel disappeared. Somehow it didn’t make Dean feel better at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean spent the next few days half-aware of what was happening around him. Both Jo and Charlie had left him alone after all their attempts to find out what happened ended up with him growling at them to go away.

The three of them went through everything they had a few more times without any enthusiasm, then left it alone. The truth was they were stuck until Bobby’s package came and they all knew it.

That left Dean with a lot of free time to think. He wasn’t very happy about it, but thinking was still better than talking. There was this big wall inside of him, something saying that this couldn’t be true, that he couldn’t accept what Castiel had done for him. He felt like he was living a stolen life.

He wasn’t sure why he was angry. Cas said he was happy. Dean _saw_ he was happy. Well, except for the part where slime was destroying his forest, but that was a whole other issue. Cas made a conscious decision, and as he said, they were both alive.

Somehow it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough because Dean had spent half of his life thinking his best friend was dead, and it still was kind of true, even now, because Castiel wasn’t the boy Dean knew as a child. It wasn’t enough because Cas lost everything, and no matter what he said, Dean didn’t believe anything could make up for that.

If only they hadn’t gone anywhere that night. If only he hadn’t decided to climb that damn tree.

After some time the anger disappeared but it all felt so _wrong._ Dean repeated in his head that he couldn’t do anything about it now. That at least Castiel was happy. That at least he knew exactly what happened that night and it should make it easier to finally get over it for good. That _Castiel_ was important to him now, so he should focus on the present and not on the past. But it still felt wrong.

On the third day Dean started wondering whether he should see Castiel and apologize for what he’d said. But he didn’t feel ready to face Cas. Fortunately or not, he was spared the effort of making that decision when he bumped into Castiel just outside of his room in the evening.

“What, are you reading my mind now?” he blurted out before he could think.

Cas looked hurt for a second, but then anger took over his face. “I can’t read your mind Dean, and even if I could, why would I? I’m certain I won’t find anything I want to hear there.”

Dean groaned. “That came out wrong. I was thinking about seeing you and now you’re here.”

“I’m still working with all of you on your hunt, remember?” Cas asked, not looking particularly satisfied with Dean’s answer. “Why did you want to see me?”

“I wanted to-- I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said,” Dean managed to splutter. “I guess I can do it now. Uh. I’m sorry. I know it’s not you. And I know it was an awful thing to say because you care a lot about that forest.”

“I would never kidnap any people either. And I still _may_ smite you if you suggest something like that ever again,” Cas snapped, but then his face softened a little. “But your apology’s accepted.”

“Okay that’s fair,” Dean agreed, and took a deep breath. “Look, I want things to be okay between us, but I’m not sure how I feel about everything else.” He laughed nervously. “The corridor probably isn’t the best place to talk about it.”

Cas nodded. “Probably it isn’t.”

“We should move.” Dean turned around to open the door to his room, and stopped with a hand on the handle, looking back at Castiel. “Wait, you came here to talk about the hunt. Did something happen?” he asked, worry stirring up in his stomach.

“I wanted to see if you got those amulets from your friend.” Cas wasn’t looking Dean in the eyes, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the wallpaper. “I… might be slightly concerned that soon the taint is going to surround me and I won’t be able to get out.”

“We’re still waiting, but it shouldn't be much longer.” Dean tried to sound reassuring, but they both knew that even with the amulets there was no guarantee they’d succeed. “Do you-- do you want to stay here for now?” he asked on impulse. Probably not a good idea. “Until we can enter the whole forest safely?”

Castiel looked at him sharply, surprised. “You don’t have to do this.”

Dean shrugged. “Well, I’m doing it anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

“I’m not happy about leaving the forest,” Cas pointed out. “But if I get trapped there, I won’t help anyone anyway.”

Dean grinned, opening the door. “Now I can make you marathon movies with me for the whole night.” Part of him shouted that this was _definitely not the time_. But he ignored it in favor of the part saying _fuck it._ “It’s not like there’s much we can do about the case anyway.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a threat.” Cas scrunched his nose. “Maybe I should reconsider.”

“Come on, you won’t regret it.” Dean pulled Cas inside, and for a moment nothing felt wrong, everything was just like it should be.

 

Somehow they ended up watching Star Wars on Dean’s laptop, sprawled on the bed, their shoulders touching. Dean had a bizarre feeling of deja vu, a memory of their ten-year-old selves doing the same. He chuckled a little. Cas gave him a questioning look, but he just shook his head.

“What about everyone else? Your dad? Are you going to tell him?” he asked instead, as Luke Skywalker entered the Cantina.

Castiel focused on the screen. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Why?”

“It was incredibly hard to tell _you._ And you’re a hunter, you acted like meeting a spirit was a completely normal thing. He doesn’t know the things you do. He’d see a stranger saying crazy, unbelievable things, reminding him about his lost son. I’m not going to put him through that. I’m not going to put _myself_ through that.” Cas fell silent for a few moments. “Besides, my dad was never good at being a _dad._ I’m not sure he deserves to know what happened to me.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that, so he just watched the movie in silence. What Cas said was probably true. Chuck Shurley was an unfulfilled writer, who shut himself in his study for days, forgetting about the whole world. He seemed like a nice guy, but certainly not someone who should have been allowed to raise a child.

“What about your family?” Castiel asked.

“What about my family?” Dean said, not understanding the question.

“I don’t know. How they’ve been doing after you all moved out, how they’re doing now?”

Cas always liked to spend time at Dean’s home and with his family. It had probably been a way to make up for how his own father had acted, at least partially. No wonder he was interested in what happened to them. Dean took a deep breath. How to summarize seventeen years in a few sentences?

“Sam became a lawyer, and he’s happy with his wife, Sarah. She’s an art dealer and she’s pretty amazing. I’m not sure why she puts up with him, though. Mom is Mom, always worrying too much about us. She does a thousand different things at once. Last time I talked to her, she was planning on selling homemade preserves. And I don’t know about Dad. He was a real asshole about the whole thing that happened with me, argued with Mom constantly until she divorced him. I haven’t heard from him since then,” he said, and then added, “Fathers are real jerks, basically.”

“Mhm,” Cas muttered in response, his expression thoughtful. They went back to watching the movie.

“You wanted to talk.” Castiel reminded Dean some time later.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean sighed. “I just don’t know what to say. I didn’t think that through, sorry,” he explained, rubbing his eyes. “This is still so strange. And I’m not okay. I think I want to be, but I don’t know how. You can’t just accept right off that your fried decided to spend his life in the forest and give up everything so you could live.” He huffed. “I sound like an ungrateful dick right now, don’t I?

“A little,” Cas admitted. “But I think I get what you’re trying to say. And you don’t have to come to terms with this today or tomorrow, we have time Dean. Or we’ll all die because of the thing in the forest and it won’t matter anymore.”

Dean snorted. “You’re such a ray of sunshine, you know Cas?”

 

Perhaps sleeping in one bed should have been weird, but for some reason it wasn’t; even considering Cas claimed he didn’t need sleep. Which didn’t stop him from curling up and drifting away somewhere in the middle of Return of the Jedi. Dean couldn’t bring himself to wake him up, so he did the only other thing he could think of - he quietly closed the laptop and put it away, then covered Cas with a blanket, lay down next to him, and fell asleep.

Waking up in one bed was an entirely different thing. It was weird as hell, and totally _not_ because Dean woke up next to Cas.

At first Dean caught a faint smell of flowers. Which wasn’t that unusual, he left the window open, the smell could come from the garden below. Then he turned to the side with his eyes still shut and landed with his face in something that felt suspiciously like grass. He opened his eyes. It _was_ grass.

Dean sat up abruptly. He was still in his room in the inn, still in his bed, and Castiel was still asleep next to him. The blanket Dean had wrapped him with was gone, though, covered completely with _flowers._ Real, growing _flowers_. In fact, the whole bed was now covered in growing grass, flowers, and small vines falling to the floor.

“ _What the fuck?_ ” Dean groaned. “Cas, what the hell did you do with my bed?”

That actually made Castiel stir. After some trouble untangling himself from the flowery blanket, he looked around, confused. “Oh,” he said; his hair sticking in every direction, a few flowers still hanging around his neck. “That’s unexpected.”

“You think so? Jesus, how am I going to explain this to Benny?” Dean hid his face in his hands. He felt the laugh building up in his belly; seconds later he was shaking, laughing so hard that tears welled up in his eyes. “This is ridiculous,” he choked out.

“I’m sure you always wanted to know how it feels to sleep on a flowerbed,” Cas said with an innocent expression.

 

Fortunately for Dean, Castiel managed to revert the room almost to how it was before, leaving them only with a handful of seeds and some tears in the sheets. Dean chose not to ask.

Neither Charlie nor Jo said anything about Cas staying in Dean’s room, though Dean could swear he heard Jo congratulating Castiel for finally stopping him from acting like a total asshole to everyone around.

They did nothing for the next couple of days, just spent time together, wandering around town, pretending that the unsolved case wasn’t looming over them. Going to all their old places with Cas was both painful and liberating in some way. Dean finally felt like he could let go of the past, building something new over the memories.

There was a small ice cream shop on the main square where they used to go as kids. They’d save up for the biggest bowl of ice cream they could get and then sit there for hours laughing, their legs dangling from the seats. Those ice cream had always tasted like a piece of heaven.

Now they sat there again, their legs no longer too short to touch the ground, their knees bumping under the table. Cas had a smear of whipped cream on his cheek and Dean couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“What?” Cas asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing, you just look very good with cream on your face.”

Cas brushed a hand across his cheek, smearing the whipped cream around, and Dean burst into laughter. He snatched a napkin from the holder and wiped off Cas’ cheek. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Castiel smiled.

Dean turned his head down, his unfinished ice cream becoming extremely interesting.

“Hey, do you think that I’m somehow connected to the Heart too?” he asked suddenly. It had been bothering him for a while already. “I mean, because of _you know._ ”

Cas frowned. “It’s possible. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been having nightmares about that night. Almost every time I went to sleep for a few weeks before I came here. I haven’t any since then. And then you took me to the Heart and I felt something. Something like a calling. Do you think it means anything?”

“I’m sorry you had nightmares.” Castiel didn’t answer the question right away, picking at his ice cream with a thoughtful expression. “I can’t tell anything for sure. But I have a guess.”

“Okay, I’m listening,” Dean prompted.

“The Heart is powerful, but sometimes it still needs help from the outside. And now it needs help more than ever.”

Dean raised his brow. “So it tried to get me here to help by giving me more nightmares? That was like _the worst tactic ever_ to do that.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault, Cas.” Dean sighed, pushing away the ice cream. He just hoped it wasn’t going to happen ever again.

 

The amulets from Bobby arrived the next day and they could finally get back to work. All four of them drove to the woods, each taking one of the pendants. It was hard to believe a small piece of metal was going to protect them, but they didn’t have much choice.

Dean saw the forest for the first time in a week and in that time it had gotten significantly worse. It would be hard to move around the slime now, it seemed to be almost everywhere, oozing out of the trees, covering the ground, making little burbling noises as they walked. At least it didn’t seem to react to them and allowed Castiel to walk around, not stopping him anymore.

“Uh, gross,” Charlie commented, grimacing. “I’m so sorry Cas, I don’t know what I would do if someone did this to my home.”

Castiel tried to look indifferent but Dean could see he was tense, his mouth getting thinner. “We’re going to fight it,” Cas said with determination.

“Okay.” Jo looked around. “Do you remember where you heard someone? We should start there.”

Cas nodded and led them deeper. They walked in silence, still cautious. The amulets worked, but who knew what else they could find in the forest now.

Castiel stopped a few times to talk to the remaining healthy trees, his expression getting grimmer and grimmer. They haven’t met any animals on their way. Either they were hidden well or they were all already taken.

In some places they were sinking ankle-deep in dark red slime, having to put extra effort in every step. In others it was hard to see bark on the trunks under the substance covering them. The stench was unbelievable.

Dean lost track of time, wading through the mud. He had no idea how long it had been when he saw a white shape looming between the trees. He nudged Cas, pointing in that direction. “I’m guessing that isn’t the normal decor of this place.”

Castiel frowned, directing his steps that way. “No, it isn’t”

“What the hell _is_ this?” Jo asked, as they came closer.

Webs. Enormous, thick webs, spreading between trees, wrapped around them, covering everything, forming a gigantic cocoon. Charlie took out a machete and started cutting through them. “If there’s a giant spider inside, I’m going to scream. And then probably stab him in one of his eyes.”

“Maybe there’s a giant silkworm,” Dean said, joining her.

Jo gagged. “I’m not sure which one would be worse.”

“Hey, silkworms are cute! And they aren’t venomous,” Charlie protested.

“Yeah, they are cute, when they’re _small_ ,” Dean argued.

Before anyone could say anything to that, they got through. There weren’t any spiders or silkworms inside, just more smaller cocoons, hanging from above. There were almost fifty of them, all in different shapes and sizes.

“Well, that’s a little disappointing.” Dean said, though honestly he was glad they didn’t find anything like silkworms or spiders in there.

“I can take a form of a giant spider, if it’s going to make you feel better,” Castiel proposed.

“I think I’ll pass.” Dean replied in case Cas was being serious.

“Is it me, or are these… _breathing_?” Jo asked, getting closer to the cocoons.

Castiel was touching another, one of the smallest around. “Dean, give me your knife,” he urged.

Dean listened him without a word. Cas took the knife and began to gently cut the cocoon open. Seconds later there was a sleeping hedgehog in his hand.

“Oh my god,” Charlie gasped. “Are those--”

“I think so.” Castiel was already moving to the next cocoon. This time there was a sleeping bird inside.

Soon they all were cutting down the cocoons and opening them. There were mostly animals, but they also found a middle aged man, an elderly woman and a teenage boy. Dean immediately recognized the boy from the pictures in Lisa’s house, a sudden wave of relief washing over him. He wasn’t aware how much he feared finding Ben’s dead body at some point and having to tell that to Lisa. They all seemed unharmed, just deeply sleeping. It was almost a miracle.

Some of the animals woke up, and Cas talked to them softly, trying to soothe them. Dean would never admit that out loud, but looking at Castiel talking to bunch of disoriented squirrels and two foxes made him very warm inside.

“Why would anyone keep them in here for weeks?” Charlie wondered.

“Maybe they’re a snack for later.” Jo replied, cutting down the last cocoon and lowering it slowly to the ground.

“Why is there a rabbit chewing on my sleeve?” a weak voice asked. The middle aged man woke up and was looking around with a dazed expression.

“Dude, trust me, you don’t want to know,” Charlie sighed.

They had to carry everyone out of the forest in turns, and it took forever, but Dean was just glad that the slime didn’t attack anyone. He was also glad that Castiel was a lot stronger than a human, because otherwise carrying some of them would have been a real pain in the ass. They’d tried asking if anyone saw who did that to them, but unfortunately the question stayed unanswered.

When everyone was finally out of the forest and conscious again, Cas decided to lead the animals to a safer place, and headed off to a small grove on the other side of the town; Dean, Charlie and Jo managed to convince the people to keep quiet about what exactly happened and drove them to the police station.

 

Later, when they came back to the inn, Dean found himself sitting on the porch again with a beer in hand. He didn’t have to wait long before Cas came back and sat beside him, stretching his legs and resting his elbows on a step behind him. Aside from both of them being more comfortable around each other now, it was almost a mirror image of the night more than a week before. Though so many things happened since then that it seemed a lot longer.

“We finally did something today,” Castiel said, smiling. “Something good.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “We’ll have to go back tomorrow, look for more of the places like the one we found. Maybe there’s still a chance we can save everyone. And someone had to see the face of the fucker who did that to them.” He started peeling off the label of the bottle in his hands. “Are the animals safe?”

Cas nodded. “For now. But they’re already missing their home. How did it go with your three?”

“Not bad. But they were probably still in shock. Sheriff Mills was a lot worse to deal with. She almost ate us alive with all her questions. I’m sure we’d be spending the night in custody for lack of cooperation if not for Lisa. She came to take Ben home and I don’t know what she told the sheriff, but it worked and we were left alone.”

“Maybe you should just tell her everything after all,” Cas suggested. “It would make things easier in this case.”

“Nah, I think we told her enough when we asked her to help us keep everyone as far from that forest as possible. And it’s not like we know that much, we’re still stumbling in the dark.” Dean glanced up. “Hey, you can see stars from here. Look! There’s the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. And, uh. I don’t know anything else, sorry.”

Castiel laughed. “Then make up your own. We used to do that, remember? There was the Swing and the Ice Cream Cone and the Giraffe.”

Dean turned his head to Cas, who was still staring at the sky, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes deepened by a smile. The half-visible spirit looked at the sky too, his ears pricked up. Dean’s thoughts once more went back to the last time they’d last sat there. _I would be very happy if that happened again._ “Can I kiss you now?” he asked, before he had a chance to change his mind.

Cas looked at him. “You don’t have to ask.”

It felt even better than the first time.

They didn’t notice when a thick fog surrounded the inn and crawled behind them until something tugged Dean sharply and dragged him into the milky substance. He couldn’t see what it was, he couldn't even see Cas anymore. He tried to struggle, without success.

He heard a furious growl, the porch cracked loudly, and then something big leaped over him. There was a terrified scream and suddenly he was free. The fog disappeared.

Dean turned around and saw Cas panting, holding down a gray-haired, frightened man.

“This is not what you think it is! I swear!” the man whimpered.

There were quick steps on the porch accompanied by Benny’s cursing. “What the fuck is happening here? Are you trying to tear this place down or what? I swear I could hear--”

As soon as Castiel looked in Benny’s direction, the man he caught took advantage of it and wriggled out of his grasp, knocking him to the ground and taking off. The fog appeared again, closing behind him. Cas jumped right after him, disappearing from Dean’s sight.

“Fuck!” Dean groaned.

“ --Winchester, can you explain me why the hell I just saw Billy Benton escaping from my lawn?” Benny asked, completely baffled.

 

Castiel came back half an hour later, angry and empty handed. During that time Dean, Jo and Charlie had sat Benny and Andrea down in their kitchen, and briefly explained what was going on, after deciding it was the best course of action. They received information about Billy Benton in return, and then both Benny and Andrea decided they need a drink.

Billy Benton worked at the drugstore in Oak Mill, and seemed like quiet, law-abiding citizen, a guy who’d never hurt anyone. Except, of course, that apparently he spent his free time using some heavy magic to kidnap people and keep them in giant cocoons in the forest.

They broke into his house first thing in the morning. They moved cautiously at first, with the guns ready. The place was empty, though, and looking almost completely normal - bright and clean, with matching furniture and colorful curtains. The only unusual thing was an extensive collection of books with spells and magic rituals Castiel found hidden in boxes under the bed.

They dragged all of the boxes into the open and started going through the books one by one, hoping to find out what Benton was planning. There was a high possibility that if there actually _was_ a book that would help them, the man had taken it with him, but it was worth trying. Soon Jo came across some spells involving conjuring magical fog, and that made them believe that at least they were on the right track. After that their search was uneventful for a long time.

“Hey, guys, listen to that,” Charlie finally said from her place on the floor. “ _To awake the gods of the times past: when the longest day comes, stand in a chosen place of power, make an offering of blood and pledge your loyalty with these words--”_ She turned the book around so they all could see the page she was reading. “The whole parts are crossed out and changed. Looks like he was trying to alter the ritual. And there’s a footnote that says _more energy needed._ You know, more energy as in _more blood_ probably .”

“You think this is it?” Jo asked, taking the book from Charlie and examining it closer. “He wants to summon some gods?”

“Uh, from the look of it, he’s not trying to summon _some_ gods, he’s trying to summon something really huge, nasty and powerful. I mean, the solstice is tonight and he’s been preparing for _months,_ and--” Charlie stopped mid-sentence, color draining from her face. “Shit. The solstice is _tonight._ ”

Dean felt his stomach drop. “We have to stop him,” he declared, standing up and distractedly putting away the papers he was reading.

“Dean, wait.” Jo got up too, grabbing his arm. “We don’t know where exactly he is! We can’t search the whole forest now!”

“So what are you suggesting? To do _nothing_!?” he raised his voice in disbelief.

“Look,” Jo shook her head. “You know I’m usually the first to jump into action, but blindly running around isn’t going to be any better than doing nothing! We still have a few hours, there must be _something_ here that will tell us where he went.”

“The Heart.” Castiel’s voice made both of them jump. “The place of power is the Heart.” His expression was shaken, but determined; the book in his hand forgotten. Before any of them could respond, he vanished.

“ _Seriously_?” Dean groaned. Of course Cas had to have an awful habit of disappearing in all the wrong moments.

“Do you know what he was talking about?” Charlie asked, perplexed.

Dean swallowed. At this point he shouldn’t be surprised he was going to have to go back to the place of his nightmares once again. “There’s a special tree in that forest, called the Heart. And from what I can tell, Cas is right, it definitely will do as a place of power.”

“Okay, we’re going there,” Jo stated. “You know the way, right?”

 

They moved as fast as they could, making their way through the bushes. After spending so much time with Cas, Dean painfully felt the lack of paths forming before them. He led the way trying to feel the pull of the tree, hoping he wasn't imagining it before. Now, when he focused, he thought he felt _something,_ but maybe it was just wishful thinking.

They ran into a bigger patch of trees not covered with slime, and everything was so quiet and peaceful there that it was hard to believe there was anything bad going on.

Dean hoped Cas was doing all right. Benton was just a human and should be no match for the spirit, but he had who knows how many spells to back him up. And well, Dean _always_ worried. He had to stop himself from drowning in dark visions of Castiel dying in a thousand different ways.

First they heard it. Wild shrieks broke the silence of the night, followed by distressing thuds and the sound of breaking wood. Dean’s heart sped up, he tried to move even faster, almost tripping up. He rushed forward, leaving Jo and Charlie behind, ignoring their shouts. The trees around were all tainted, dripping with dark red slime.

He burst into the clearing out of breath, desperately hoping it wasn’t too late.

There was something big circling the tree, covered in scar tissue and blisters, its long limbs moving with a vicious precision. A predator hunting prey. Nausea hit Dean with force. Either Benton had already finished the ritual or he wasn’t human after all. For some reason Dean was willing to bet it was the second option. But no matter which one was true, they were fucked.

Cas stood in front of the Heart, but not in his human form; the creature with animal faces was tangible and solid this time. He growled, charging towards Benton without a warning. They clashed, biting and struggling; Castiel tore a big chunk of meat, making Benton screech with pain, and pushed him towards the trees. Dean allowed himself a small sigh of relief. At least it looked like Cas was winning.

And then Castiel saw him and froze. It was just a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Benton to strike again with full force. Cas hit the Heart and collapsed on the ground, not moving.

“CAS!” Dean yelled, unable to stop himself. Before he could do anything, Benotn leaped through the clearing, pinning him down. Dean landed at a weird angle, feeling his leg snap. A wave of burning pain jolted through his whole body. He could see a bone sticking out from his shin.

Benton leaned close, inhaling. His face was deformed and inhuman, he reeked like a corpse. It was hard to believe that Dean saw him only yesterday.

“Well, well,” he said. “What a lovely surprise.” Even his voice wasn’t human anymore.

“Sorry pal, but I can’t say the same,” Dean managed to spat through clenched teeth. He tried to break away, without success. Where the hell were Charlie and Jo?

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Benton mocked him, dragging him towards the tree. “I will enjoy this for both of us, then.” He laughed. “You see, I was going to have to proceed with what I had and you diminished those resources a little yesterday, but bleeding you out is going to be _so much better_. I can _feel_ it boy, you are linked with this tree, it already tasted your blood. And that makes the offering a lot more _generous_. And that fool tried to capture you not even knowing what a treasure you are.”

“Wait. You’re not Benton?” Dean decided the best thing he could do was stalling until some kind of miracle happened. “How many of you ugly asses is he trying to summon?” They were closer to the Heart now, and he threw a quick glimpse at Cas. His chest was still moving, thank God.

The creature laughed again. “Did you really think I was that pathetic sack of meat? Disappointing. He was useful for a time, but he finally got scared of you, he wanted to back out on our deal. So I took his body and _improved_ it a little. Do you like it?”

“Not really.” It was hard not to gag, and even harder to think clearly with his leg killing him. His vision narrowed, dark spots dancing before his eyes. “So what were you two up to? I’m sure you’re dying to have your big villain speech and tell me everything.”

The creature seemed to think about it for a while. “Not particularly, no. But if you must know, I’m expecting a reunion with an old friend. Some call him the Morning Star. Shall we begin?”

So that was the end. Dean was going to die under that stupid tree after all.

There was a sharp swish in the air and just like that the head of the creature fell to the ground, followed by its body. Behind it, Charlie stood with a machete in hand, blood splattered across her face. “Ew, gross,” she commented with a frown, wiping the machete on her pants. Then she noticed the state of Dean’s leg. “Fuck. Sorry it took so long. We bumped into the cocooned bunch he was going to sacrifice, and decided to free them first.”

“We would have left them for later if we knew how bad it was.” Jo’s voice added somewhere next to Dean’s head. He wanted to turn around, but his whole body felt like it was made from lead.

Just then a cloud of dark smoke rose from the decapitated body, swarming in the air. It lurched towards him. Jo yelped as something big flashed above Dean, landing between him and the smoke. Castiel was up again and Dean wanted to congratulate him on his timing.

The cloud changed direction in a swift move. It avoided Cas, and sunk into the Heart.

“NO!” Castiel growled, jumping after it. The tree burst into flames, Cas vanished and Dean blacked out.

 

 

_Two weeks later_

Dean stirred slowly, not sure what woke him. He tried turning over without opening his eyes and groaned, remembering about the cast on his leg. Everything that had happened lately rushed back into his head. The fight, the burning tree, Cas disappearing and not coming back since then.

Charlie told him that all that was left from the Heart was a charred trunk. At first Dean had tried to avoid thinking that maybe Castiel died with it, but it got harder as the days passed.

The rest of the forest seemed to get back to normal, no more slime oozing from the trees, no more infected patches of the ground. And they saved a lot of lives that day. He repeated that to himself a lot. Somehow it didn’t make him feel much better.

It had to be early, or else someone would be trying to get him out of bed and make him eat. He didn’t want to get up. The sheets were like a shield, protecting him from the outside world. It was warm, and he could pretend nothing else existed.

“You need more plants in here. And a cat.” A low voice startled him, making him jump. For a second he was certain he’d fallen asleep again. It had to be a dream. Only his brain playing painful tricks on him could explain this. Castiel was gone.

Dean heard rustling somewhere near the window.

“You also need to care more of the plants you already have, Dean. Your dracaena is almost dead.” Cas’ voice was so disapproving that Dean decided he wouldn’t be able to dream that.

He opened his eyes, bracing himself for a disappointment, but Castiel was really there, in his room, looking at Dean’s plants with an expression matching his tone. The light coming from the window created a bright halo around his head. He seemed somewhat smaller in a dark red hoodie and jeans, unshaven, with his hair disheveled as always.

“Okay,” Dean said, when he finally found his voice. “But on one condition. You need to stop making me think you’re dead.”

“I don’t do that on purpose, you know,” Cas said defensively.

“I’m not convinced,” Dean grumbled, getting up. He stood before Cas, staring at him, bracing himself on one leg, suddenly very lightheaded. “Holy shit. I’m not dreaming, am I? You actually _are_ here, you dumb idiot.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” Castiel offered, amused.

Dean huffed and tried to limp through the remaining space between them. He moved too fast, stumbling and almost falling. Cas caught him halfway to the floor. “Smashing your head doesn’t seem like a good way to check if you’re dreaming, Dean,” he commented, letting Dean prop himself up on his shoulders.

“Very funny,” Dean muttered, capturing Cas’ lips. Castiel put his arms around him, pulling him even closer. They kissed, and then the kiss gradually turned into a hug, Dean resting his head on Cas’ shoulder. He possibly had slightly wet eyes, but he would never admit that. Something in him melted, a great weight disappeared from his chest. There was a part of him still angry at himself, at Cas, at _everything_ , but in that moment he just felt relieved.

It was going to be a long time before Dean was completely fine with what Castiel did for him, if that was possible at all. And something told him that whatever happened to Cas after the battle, he’d need a lot of time to heal, too. Plus there was still the issue of his past. Despite all that, Dean stood there with a newfound faith that they were going to make it okay somehow, no matter how hard it was.

“So what happened? How are you here?” he asked after a while, his voice muffled by Cas’ hoodie.

He felt Castiel’s chest shifting as the man sighed. “The Heart died, destroying the creature. I think it almost killed me. And the forest lost its soul, the trees are _just_ trees now. They’re not alive in a way they were before. It didn’t feel like my home anymore. I couldn’t-- at first I was too weak to do anything, and after that I needed some time to myself. And then I realized I’d rather be here.”

Dean looked at Cas, raising his brow. “And you just materialized in my room?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “No. I took a bus and then Charlie let me in.”

“Huh.” Dean paused and moved back a little, giving Cas another look. No matter how hard he tried, he could see only a man, but nothing more. No other faces, no antlers, nothing lurking just on the verge of his vision. He probably should have expected that, knowing what happened to The Heart, but he still felt a painful pang inside. “So, you’re human now.”

“Maybe.” Cas gently turned Dean around, towards the window. The dracaena looked as good as the day Sam had brought it; leaves no longer yellow or droopy. “Or _maybe_ there’s just a speck of something more.”

 


End file.
